You'll Never Walk Alone
by TheOwletQueen
Summary: Sequel to After The Battle, but can stand alone. The Avengers are breaking apart. Tony hates Steve, and the Captain feels miserable. When two team members are abducted, the leftovers are desperate. Their enemy wants not only to recreate the super soldier serum, but also wants the Iron Man suit. Starring all of the Avengers, but especially Tony and Steve. NO SLASH!
1. New Colleagues

**Welcome back! This is the (more or less) long promised sequel. It has a plot and is also a bit darker than 'After the Battle'. You don't necessarily need to know 'After the Battle' to understand this story (if there is something mentioned that you could only understand with having read 'After the Battle', I will explain it shortly :) )**

**Also, some other stuff I'd like to point out:**

**1. April 11th, 2012, was the release date of 'Marvel's The Avengers'. Therefore I take this date as the day the whole 'thing' started (Fury going to the lab and Loki stealing the Tesseract). That means that right now in my story it is about late june.**

**2. I have not yet seen 'The Incredible Hulk'. So, I'm not really acquainted with the Hulk. I just take everything that was given in 'The Avengers' and add a little bit of my own thoughts into Bruce's/the Hulk's behavior.**

**3. I don't own 'The Avengers', Marvel, Marvel Studios et cetera. **

**4. The name of this story is inspired by a song called 'You'll never walk alone' by a german band called 'Die Toten Hosen' (Translation: The Dead Trousers' :D). I don't own the band or the song. But it's a nice song. I think the song matches the story. The original song belongs to Garry & The Peacemakers, but I like the version of Die Toten Hosen better ;)**

**5. I will do a number of things that might or might not be able to happen in the Marvel Universe. I don't know the comics.**

**I don't make money with this story! (I would like to, but I don't).**

**Merry belated Christmas and here you go!**

It was one of these days. Well, every day was one of these days... at least since _he _had come into her life and left again, barely 24 hours since they had met.

Sure, she hadn't been very happy at first. Or at least she hadn't been sure of her feelings. He had undoubtely looked better than any model, but at first he had been... well, annoying. And then SHIELD had showed up and taken her equipment. It was his archievement she had got it back at last. And it had established the collaboration with the SHIELD-agents. She was being well payed, hat the best equipment and if she needed something else, she would get it, whatever it was.

And there was only one thing she was so desperately asking for and still didn't get it: _he_.

Jane pushed her hair aside. She had been back from Trømso for three months now, so _he _had been gone for fifteen. It was nearly unbearable.

Sure, SHIELD-agents were very nice, her new flat was great, Puente Antiguo was growing. Even Darcy had finished college and returned to New Mexico. And then there had been the Manhattan incident. SHIELD had been involved, but they had told her _nothing_! Yeah, probably Erik was involved. There had been aliens that wanted to rule the world? Ridiculous!

And _he _had apparently been there. But again: no news for her. Apart from the e-mail.

Jane smiled. When she had told Darcy, the younger woman had squealed something along the lines of 'Oh my God, how cute is that!'. True, it was cute. But she could live without cute e-mails, had she just the real Thor.

She stopped the van and looked around. The lab's parking lot was filled with the usual black SHIELD limousines, but there was one new car. The bright red sportscar (apparently a Lamborghini) was definitely new and definitely not of SHIELD. Surely director Fury – whom Jane had met and immediately been scared of – would kick out any agent that took his liberty to drive a tomato red Lamborghini to work. Also, it would probably cost too much. SHIELD-agent's pay wages were good, but not as high as to make them buy a Lamborghini just out of fun. She had met some of them, and it was certainly not a SHIELD-agent's style to drive a car like that to work.

Jane entered the big laboratory (SHIELD called it NM-base) and went straight to her personal office. It was directly connected to the main part of the lab where the really important experiments were carried out. Also, it was very stylish, being a glass cube with loads of up-to-date computers, printers and different scientific gadgets. Pff. As if she needed a styled lab.

But it was a room for just herself and so generously equipped that she wouldn't say no. None of the other scientists came into here, unless something very important had happened.

She dropped her bag and her keys at her desk and stared at the two strangers who were apparently busy fiddling with _her _computer. The left one wore a brown suit, slightly worn out, while the right one was dressed in an expensive looking grey suit.

"Excuse me! I do not think you have permission to look at that!" she said loudly.

The two me turned around.

"Ah, you must be Jenny... Josie..." the man in the expensive suit said, obviously having problems with her name.

He was good-looking, with slightly messed-up black-brownish hair, big chocolate puppy eyes and a goatee.

Although he looked familiar, Jane could not remember ever having met him.

"Well, I think you could just stay by calling me 'Miss Foster'." she replied coldly.

The other man with brown curls nodded.

"Sure. I am glad to meet you, Miss Foster. I've read about your theory of an Einstein-Rosen bridge, it's amazing!"

They shook hands.

"I'm Doctor Banner, by the way."

"Ah, so that's why you looked familiar to me, I just couldn't figure out your name. Your work on-"

"Bruce, I think you should see this." the other man, who had turned back to Jane's computer, interrupted.

"Excuse me." Banner said and went over his fellow.

Jane frowned. "And who are you?" she asked, addressing the other man.

Banner ignored her and grabbed the shoulder of said other man.

"Tony, this is serious. We must call director Fury."

Said Tony nodded and flipped his high-tech mobile open.

"Director, we got- yes, it's Stark. No, it's urgent this time... no, Steve's alright. Yes... yes. it's really urgent.. yeah, we're in New Mexico... that Jessie-girl?... Jane, whatever... yes, we met her, but... yes, yes of course... good. See you in twenty minutes then."

He hung up.

"Fury'll be here in like twenty minutes, he's as pissed as always to hear my lovely voice, so nothing new there."

"So you're Tony Stark." Jane stated.

Tony Stark, Iron Man, in her lab? He had been part of the Avengers group who had wrecked havoc in New York... just like Thor...

One half of her wanted to ask for an autograph to show off in front of Darcy later, the other half wanted to kick him out... or ask for Thor.

Stark walked over to her coffee machine and eyed it suspiciously.

"I suspect this... _thing _is not able to produce anything that really tastes like coffee, but for lack of a better option..."

Asshole!, Jane thought. Her coffee machine was perfectly able to produce coffee.

**And here is my obligatory plea for reviews: *puppy dog eyes* Review? :3**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	2. Walking alone

**And as a belated Christmas gift, you get the second chapter TODAY!**

**Also, this chapter is quite long, but I just couldn't stop in the middle. Future chapters will probably be shorter.**

**I don't own the Avengers, and I must admit, I have never seen 'Full Metal Jacket'. I just looked it up on Wikipedia, because I just needed some movie like that (It's about a soldier in the Vietnam war, Wikipedia says, but more important: It's about how horrible war is.****) I also don't own 'Full Metal Jacket'.**

It was already gleaming black, but he nevertheless went on polishing it. _Her. _Strangely enough, he always referred to it as a she.

Steve flicked the duster one last time and looked at his motorcycle in awe. The one he had had back in the forties had been very nice, with lots of hidden functions. But this one, custom-made by SHIELD only for him... it was awesome.

And though it didn't need all the tinkering of Steve, the blonde actually enjoyed it too much to stop.

If he was timesick, had trained too much, had slept too little or the Avengers (especially Tony) were driving him crazy, when he missed Peggy and Bucky and the Howling Commandos and all his other friends too much, he would come down to the deep-level garage.

Most of the space was inhabited by Tony's ridiculously expensive cars – sportscars, limousines and some off-roaders. Natasha and Clint had their grey op car here, equipped with some special SHIELD-stuff. The car was probably rocket-proof, could fly and swim, had enough weapons in it to win a war against a smaller country et cetera.

When moving in, Steve had chosen an abandoned corner for his bike. He couldn't see Tony's extremely expensive vehicles from there, it almost looked deserted.

And that was what he had wanted: a place that didn't necessarily remind him of being in the wrong time, being all alone.

The first thing he had done after he had deposited his stuff at his own floor: he had asked for a broom.

He didn't get one, though. The only thing Pepper could come up with instead had been a vacuum cleaner. She had also helped him cleaning his corner (Tony had laughed at him, Pepper had told him to go away.).

After that, he had put the bag filled with his bike-stuff in one corner and the stone-aged record-player with his collection of records in another. Yeah, well, stone-aged... the player was just as old as he was, or even younger.

Someday after he had been shopping books with Pepper, he had put them there, too.

Few days later, this old cupboard had magically appeared and his books now sat there.

And as the weeks passed, Steve had established himself a seating area.

Because he just spent so much time down there. Reading, drawing, playing with his bike... actually, the deep-level garage was the place he spent most time in, directly followed by the training area, where he always went after having had another nightmare.

He also spent much time in Central Park, jogging, but time on his floor rarely. Sleeping (or trying to sleep), wandering around, showering and dressing. Apart from that, he never visited his floor.

And the rest of his time he spent in the kitchen, making breakfast. That was the only time of the day when he not tried to avoid the other Avengers and Tony. And sometimes he went in the city.

But Steve was often alone. He chose it, no doubt, but he didn't want to.

However, spending time with the Avengers was not an option. Mostly, Natasha and Clint were together, talking over missions, briefings, experiences, laughing. Yes, Natasha could laugh. When Clint's nightmares apparently became less frequent, the constant frown that had been on her face vanished, and smiles began to happen more often. She was beautiful when she smiled, but she only smiled for Clint. Or maybe Pepper. The two woman got along quite well. But she didn't smile for anyone else. Tony was still Stark to her, she was scared of Bruce, even though she wouldn't admit it. And Steve? They had maybe spent too little time together. And him being scared of her didn't make the acquaintance easier. Also, Natasha didn't seem as though she wanted to establish real friendship with the other Avengers. She seemed fine with having them as their colleagues, but not friends. The only person she was open around was Hawkeye. Or probably the non-agent side of him.

Clint spent his time with Natasha. They spoke some crazy english-russian mixture, laughing together, watching TV or trained. Every now and then Steve would spar with the archer, but he didn't talk much. Apart from that, the assassin spent his time with Tony sometimes, joking and laughing, sharing the same sense of humor. Clint wasn't so fond of Pepper, he was still terrified of been yelled at when he sat on top of the fridge for the first time, and Steve didn't know what the archer thought of Bruce.

The scientist was very close with Tony. They didn't share their sense of humour, but they were very fond of each other's scientific thoughts. So mostly when they talked, it was all Greek to Steve. Apart from that, the scientist sometimes talked with Pepper over casual things, and every time when Bruce made a remark about something looking pretty bad, Natasha would grin and say she'd seen worse, which would make Bruce apologize and Natasha say that sometimes, one needed a little worse, and they would both smile. Steve didn't understand the joke, but he also didn't bother to ask anymore.

He had stopped asking about things he didn't understand some time ago. He was sick of Tony and also often Clint and Natasha laughing about him – although Natasha laughed rarely about other people, because when she smiled that was as much laugh as anybody would get out of her – because he didn't get a reference. In the beginning, he had been eager to learn all this new stuff, but now he was sick of it. He had started a small booklet about all the references, where they came from and what they meant. But Steve had thrown it off STARK Tower one night.

After Tony had again laughed about him not knowing who or what _Full Metal Jacket _was, the billionaire had forced him to watch the movie with him, including all the Avengers. Bruce fell asleep after three minutes of the movie, since he had been in the lab for some days without sleep. Natasha and Clint had complained about just how unrealistic the movie was, Tony had laughed all the time about apparently bad effects, but Steve had run out of the room after thirty minutes, bolting straight to the roof of the tower. It had been too much to see everything he had seen too, back in the war, back in the forties. The movie was made of the same stuff that his nightmares were made of. And he just couldn't stand it. That was how the booklet was thrown off one side of the building. He then had been nearly ready to jump after it. He hated this time where people made fun of things more horrible than they could ever imagine.

When he got back inside, the movie was over, and Tony had made even more fun of him for running away. Steve had nearly been crying when Pepper came around who managed to make him stop and apologize and everything. He didn't know what made him be so weak around him, but Steve had avoided Tony ever since. He ate breakfast at five o'clock and spent the rest of the day either training, in Central Park jogging or drawing, driving his bike around New York City or walking around there. If it rained, he stayed in his bike's corner, drawing, reading.

At first, he had really wanted to become friends with the entire team. Then, when the teasing and laughing at him became more and more frequent, he had cut it down a bit, but after the movie incident, he had really tried avoiding them.

Steve had met Natasha and Clint twice. Natasha had hit the archer upside the head both times before he could say something. Because with Clint it was difficult. Sometimes the archer was really nice, but then there was a bad day, where he would use everything Steve said against him. Sometimes it was so bad that Natasha apologized for Clint's behavior later on. Steve understood that the archer hadn't had a very nice past, and after Natasha let it slip that Cint was even somewhat mentally damaged due to his extremely hard childhood, he had decided that the archer was rather okay.

Buce, yeah, well, he had met Bruce five or more times, but that was okay. Bruce was a really nice guy, and with him it was easy to find a subject to talk about. And if you didn't want to talk, he respected that. He respected everybody.

And Tony... Steve had met him seven times, and Pepper had only been there twice. It seemed as though Stark was trying to be in a room with Steve on purpose.

When Pepper was there, Tony didn't make too many jokes about Steve.

But the five other times... Steve had felt like crying every single time afterwards. He really didn't know what made Tony be so mean to him, he just knew he hated it. It was worse than getting beat up in dark streets because he couldn't keep his mouth shut and was 'too dumb not to run away from a fight' like Bucky had put it. Maybe it was because Tony looked like Howard. True, also Howard had laughed at Steve often, but Bucky also. And it hadn't been as bad. Of course, he had felt stupid sometimes then, but not like it was now. It was like a bad dream in which your friend suddenly turned and stabbed you in the back. Steve had had these dreams, but he had always been awakened by Bucky, who, after knowing what Steve most of the times dreamed about (that was before the nightmares of the war had started), had always had this stupid grin on his face and said: 'Okay, Steve, watch out. I'm going to kill you right now.'. The way Bucky had always said it had been reassuring. Once, Howard had seen this 'ritual'. They had explained it to him, and Howard had laughed. Tony looked exactly like his father when he laughed, but Tony only laughed about someone, not with someone.

And Howard had been a friend. Sometimes, he had of course laughed over Steve being an idiot, but he was a friend, so it was okay. Tony wasn't, and it wasn't okay. Steve knew he couldn't blame Tony for not being his father, but most of the time he wished he could exchange Stark for his father. Because he missed Howard just so much.

Tony used his knowledge about that fully knowing how he hurted Steve with that. Or maybe he didn't because he didn't even know how it was to loose a friend. Because Pepper probably had been Tony's only friend all the time.

Pepper. Pepper was probably the only person Steve really liked to spend time with. Since they had cancelled the 'who has to go shopping when'-list (because nobody ever did it and found excuses except from Steve), he accompanied Pepepr for shopping. Or he went visiting one of the big office buildings of Stark Industries with her. Two of them were located in New York, and thus Pepper went there often.

And Steve liked it. He liked the way she didn't pry, the way she just accepted a 'no' when he didn't want to tell her anything more and she wasn't upset, the way she smiled. The way she laughed friendly when he didn't get something and explained it to him later. The way she always exactly knew which book she would like and which he wouldn't. The way she would come down with coffee and cookies when she thought he had hidden down here too long.

"Hey!" Pepper's soft voice cut through to him. She put down a tablet with coffee and chocolate cookies – his favourite.

"Haven't seen you for a while, so I thought I'd come down and look after you."

He returned her smile and took a cookie. But then he frowned. He had to tell her about his decision, but he didn't want to. After all, she had always been so nice to him.

"Pepper... there is something I have to tell you..."

She looked at him questioningly. "What is it?"

Steve sighed. This wasn't going to be easy.

"I... I want to... move out. Out of the tower, I mean. I... you have been very nice to me, but..." He faded out and stared at his knees.

"I've seen that coming." she said softly and was silent for a while.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I understand that Tony can be... difficult. Do you... have a place to go?"

"Yes, I thought I would move back into the apartment SHIELD had rented for me. I'll pay for it myself, I'm staying on the team... if they still want me."

"Steve, you are their leader. Of course you are staying, and if somebody says anything against that, I'll make sure that time was the one and only time they said something against you staying the leader. And whenever there is something... whatever happens, you'll always be welcome here."

"Thank you." he said quietly.

"When do you want to leave? Don't understand me wrong, I'd like it better if you weren't going at all, but... really, I've seen that coming. And I guess after the movie incident you wanted to stay even less. And the way you hide down here all the time... I've realised you weren't happy, but I thought you would just need some time to adjust. It's okay, really."

Steve sighed. "I'm sorry it has to end like this, but... I'd like to go as soon as possible, I really don't want to explain it to anyone. I will have to, of course, but... not now."

Pepper nodded. "Then why don't you pack your stuff? I'll drive it to your apartment, and you can take your bike."

He smiled, relieved that she wasn't angry. "You don't need to - "

" - but I do it. Come on, Steve, it's best if you're happy. Not only for you, but also for the atmosphere in the team."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It hadn't taken more than one hour until they had packed his stuff in the tower, moved it to his apartment and unpacked it there.

"Whenever you need something or just want to talk, you come over, okay?"

Steve nodded. He would probably never set willingly as much as a foot in Stark tower, only if Fury needed him to.

"Sure. I will."

After Pepper had left, he cleaned the place and went groceries shopping. He still had no idea how he was going to tell his colleagues he didn't want to be around them anymore.

Natasha probably wouldn't say anything, if Clint had a good day, he wouldn't, either, Bruce would try to say something nice, and Tony... well, he could imagine what he would say.

**Yes, I'm mean to Stevie.**

**I hope he is reasonable... I just want to express how little he likes this time... and Tony... and how much Tony hates him.**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***

**In this case, when I re-read this chapter, I realized I had made Clint way more evil than I wanted to make him appear. Therefore I would like to personally apologize to Agent Clinton Francis 'Hawkeye' Barton, Agent of SHIELD... :) and to everybody who didn't like Clint in the un-edited chapter. Means: I'M SORRY!**


	3. Thor's Arrival and Sleeplessness

**This is the last update in good old 2012. I'm gonna miss you *sniff*. 2013, here I come :)**

**I should probably quit that year-nonesense... :D Happy New Year to all of you!**

Jane nearly dropped the tablet when she heard Stark's voice from behind.

"So, Josie, what does the spectrometre say?"

She turned around and reminded herself to stay calm. How often had she already reminded him he was to call her Ms Foster?

Stark had been at the lab for two weeks now. He and Banner were good scientists, she didn't doubt that. But while Banner was a nice, quiet person that didn't talk too much (and if he talked, it was very interesting what he had to say, whether it was scientific or just smalltalk), Stark was his total opposite. The man behaved like he owned the place, like they all should be glad he didn't throw them out. He was a pain in the ass, and Fury clearly thought so, too. The director had visited them the day Stark and Banner had come. True, the two men had found out that the Bifrost was apparently healing (but Thor had told her so, too) and that it was at approximately fifty percent power already, but nothing more. Fury had left five hours later and they hadn't heard from him ever since.

"Hey." Banner stepped next to her. "Just look at this for a moment and tell me what you think."  
She looked at the graph he was showing her.

"I mean, I think we can exspect the Bifrost to be fully healed by thursday." Banner said.

Thursday. Thor's day. It was tuesday, so there were three more days to go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, Captain, where exactly are you living now?" Hill asked.

""In the apartment you had for me."

"Okay..."she changed the file.

_Rogers, my office, now. _Fury's voice came over the speakers.

Hill nodded. "It's okay, you can go, Captain."

"We've come to know the Bifrost has fully healed, so Thor can – and surely will – return. I've thought of the Avengers assembling there, so you have to go there, too. I know you are not living in the Tower anymore, but until I hear you want to quit, you will stay the Captain of the Avengers. That includes going to New Mexico now, even if you don't like it."

"I understand, sir. It's my duty as a team leader." Steve said, trying to sound as normal as possible.

"Good. You are taking off here together with Miss Potts, because Barton and Romanov, as well as Stark and Banner are already at the site, and I'd like to have Potts around to control Stark a bit."

"Yessir.", Steve answered obligatory.

"And, Captain: I would really like it if you would give it a try. During a battle, the Hulk is nearly completely useless when it comes to strategy, and so is Stark and Barton and Romanov. They may be agents, but they usually fight on their own or in a small team containing just them. The only one that could match you concerning strategy would be Thor, and he has two world where he has to be. I am afraid that weren't it for you, the team would be a completely failure. I have to relay on you, Captain. Do you understand?"

Steve bit back a smile. It was nice of Fury to think that. "Of course, sir. Thank you for... uh, pointing that out."

"Good God, take a compliment when you get one, Captain. But I'm serious. I'd rather have any of the others leave the team than you.", the director said gravely with the hint of a smile. Then it vanished. "Now get out of here. I've got work to do, and unless you have to tell me something important, you are disturbing me."

"Yessir.", Steve answered with a small salute. He decided he liked the director.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Bifrost was not as impressive as Steve had hoped. When he and Pepper got off the plane, he wasn't even recognized by his team members. Then Bruce stepped in, together with a woman with brown hair, probably the Foster woman Fury had talked about.

Banner lifted his gaze from the tablet and spotted the Captain looking quite uncomfortable and lost around all the gadgets.

"Steve!" he called out, and the blonde turned around.

"Dr Banner!"

They shook hands. Why didn't he call him Bruce?, Steve wondered shortly.

"Steve, this is Ms Foster. She's the leading scientist in researching the Bifrost site. Ms Foster, this is Steve Rogers, our leader."

"Hey. Yeah, I've heard about you." Foster smiled and Steve somehow felt even more uncomfortable. She was a pretty woman, but she was Thor's girlfriend.

Then Tony interrupted.

"Hey, did you really move out?" He stared at Steve. The soldier froze. Great. What was he going to tell Tony? That his complete asshole-ness spoiled living in the tower?

"Anthony, I told you you will _not _discuss that with Steve. That is his own decision, and you are by no way interfering with this!" Pepper stepped next to Steve and crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking pretty angry.

"Hey, that's my tower, so I-"

"But I own 12% of it, and with these 12% I forbid you to do as much as _think _about that matter." she shot back.

"Gentlemen!" Fury stepped up. When had he arrived? "And ladies." he corrected himself. "I think we should step outside, as the Bifrost is about to come to life any moment now."

It hadn't been such a big deal after all. The Bifrost hadn't started such a big storm like it had the first time. So Tony was unimpressed and told everybody that wanted to hear it (and those who didn't) that he wasn't impressed.

Thor had landed, looking pretty much the same, and when Jane had wanted to hug him, Fury had said they should all go inside. Or rather, he had commanded that they should get _the hell inside_!

So here they were. Jane looked as though she was going to kill Fury any moment, Natasha and Clint stood in the corner, acting as though they weren't there at all. Tony was grinning and half paying attention to Fury, half to his phone, and completely ignoring Pepper.

And Bruce... well, Bruce was looking Bruce-ish.

Fury pulled up a screen and began tapping.

"So, Thor, there is some stuff I need to have you up-to-date to. That's why I want _all _of you back to New York City."

"Sir -", Jane began, but Fury didn't let her speak.

"Miss Foster, you can go with them, as well as Miss Lewis. I'd really like that, just to make sure nobody will blow up the city. That'd be a paid holiday for both of you."

Turning to all of them, he added: "We need to talk about the Avengers some other time, as I am on a tight scheldue. I set a meeting for friday next week, seven o'clock in the morning. You are _not _going to be late, understood? Thank you, then, that was it."

The director turned around, his leather coat flowing behind him, and left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve had stayed quiet while they flew back immediately after the director had dismissed them. He pretended to sleep and hurried back to his flat the moment they touched down at the airport. It wasn't right, he knew that, but he didn't want to be in their presence when they all discovered that he had moved out.

He unlocked the door to his apartment and locked it right behind him. A precaution. The apartment was high-tech: lights went on and off, detecting movements, the heating was turned up or down so that it was always a nice 75°F. All just another reminder of being in the wrong time.

Night was falling and New York was still lit up. He felt cold.

He should have given Tony one more chance, maybe. It wasn't his fault Howard had searched all his life for him, Steve. It had been Tony's only chance to build himself this defense, this snarky, sarcastic, idiotic, mean, arrogant behavior.

Actually, Steve thought, it was _his _fault. If he had tried something, like securing the steer so the plane would have dropped on its own, he could have searched for a parachute, could have saved himself.

Howard wouldn't have searched for him and found the Tesseract instead; Loki couldn't have used the Tesseract to try to rule the world; the world wouldn't have been in need for the Avengers; Phil would have been still alive.

He showered and crawled into his bed. He never shut out the nightly glow of the city. It reminded him that he wasn't alone. It helped him fall asleep, but once he was alseep, the nightmares would come. Every night it was different, yet similar. Sometimes he saw his old friends dying, sometimes he was attacked by things he could never remember... or it was the Chitauri again. Sometimes his friends just fell down somewhere and he couldn't move – being immobile happened often, actually. The dreams were often about Bucky dying again, and sometimes the Avengers, or Fury, or Tony, all grossly malformed, were attacking him.

He would awake, surrounded by darkness, sweating, panting. He wouldn't go back to sleep then. After a hot shower – he never showered cold – he would make hot coffee and probably sketch. Or he would sit there in the dark and stare out of the window.

It was the same, this night. He woke up abruptly. It was three-seventeen, he had fallen asleep at about half past ten. Nearly five hours of sleep – it was probably the longest time he had ever slept withought waking up this century. It wore out, sure.

But ever since he got out of SHIELD intensive care where they would give him strong medicaments to give him his sleep, he never slept longer. He couldn't.

Steve stepped into the shower. All the time he had been in the 21st century, he felt more and more sleep-deprieved. How long was it now? Four months, five, six? Or was it just two? He didn't know. Time suddenly didn't matter anymore, since every day was the same.

He dried himself and let the towel drop. The room was warm, foggy, but it was somehow so far away. This world was kept behind a transparent curtain, leaving him alone in his shell. It was not only the technology, not only how people nowadays were, not only that his friends were dead... it was everything. Everything was wrong.

Steve stretched his arm and swiped over the mirror to see his reflection. His hair was a mess, and there were dark shadows under his eyes.

He started looking through the files that had been in the envelope Fury had given him the day he had moved into the apartment. His friends, back then... and then this stamp. "DECEASED". "DECEASED". Color red, like blood.

Peggy's file was last. Its stamp was different, though. "RETIRED". Along with her current address.

She is alive!, Steve thought bitterly. She is alive, seventy years older, probably married.

He glanced over to the phone. He was Captain America, he was a hero (he had just watched the forties' video material about him) – couldn't he just phone people, old friends... people he was in love with? Was he in love with her? Still? Was _she _still in love with him? Probably not. Not after seventy years, right?

She wasn't. She couldn't be. So he wasn't going to phone her. She was leading her own life, and he... well, he would try to save whatever was left of his.

That was what always went through his head when he looked through the files. And he did that quite often. A reminder, yes. A painful one, true. But sometimes it was all that kept him sane: looking at the faces of his friends and missing them.

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***

**A bit more of Fury-niceness here :)**


	4. WALL-E and blackout

**Rather violent chapter, this time. Sorry if that's not okay for anybody. Won't happen often, I promise.**

**Actually, this one is one and a half chapters, but the half was too short to make an own chapter.**

**Don't own WALL-E, or the Avengers, or Apple, or Apollo 18 (I unfortunately hadn't time to watch it... :( ).**

**Also, I have never read the comics, which leads to me not knowing A THING about Tony's childhood apart from what is told in the movies. I just hope it is okay the way I interpreted other fanfiction/made up his childhood.**

The giant STARK tower was actually not that far away. One, maybe twohundred metres. And maybe twohundred metres over the ground, there was maybe Tony. What would he be doing? Inventing something? Being in the lab with Bruce? Quarreling with Natasha? Joking with Clint? And Thor. Was he there, too? And his girlfriend? And what about Pepper?

Steve remembered staring up to the tower the day he got his apartment, the day he had looked as the files first, the day he had discovered Howard had a son. The day he had met this waitress first. She had asked wether he was waiting for Iron Man to fly by.

Well, she was still working at that café. When the Chitauris had attacked New York, she had be with the cornered civilians. He had probably saved her life.

He imagined her being a nice person, even though he had never talked to her. Well, not really at least. Her name was Beth.

What would she say if he would ask her for help? Would she tell him to give Tony another chance?

The billionaire probably didn't mean it. Probably.

Steve was back in his apartment when his phone rang. SHIELD hat given him a crash course concerning mobiles, phones and computers (Since Agent Moll, who had been assigned with teaching him this modern stuff, had left the apartment, he hadn't touched any of this stuff). The mobile had been a necessarity, Fury had said.

The phone was apparently an iPhone 4, whatever that meant. Fury had given it to him with the words: "You can text, phone and surf as much as you want, download apps or whatever, SHIELD will cover that. Just make sure it's always properly charged and you have it with you. And don't make it wet, that'll break it."

Not that Steve had tried surfing with the phone. Whatever Moll had said about surfing, he didn't want to break any of this electronic stuff. Hadn't he been told not to get the phone wet? So how was he supposed to surf with it?! And also, this phone was too tiny to make a good surfboard.

Maybe Moll had told him what surfing with a phone meant, but he really had no clue. Because, well, he hadn't listened. so the only thing he was able to do with this iPhone (why did they write it like this?) was accepting calls.

And since the screen said he had an incoming call from Tony, and since he had agreed with himself on giving the genius another chance, he would take it. And so he pressed the answer button (okay, Moll had told him to be gentle with the phone, but he wanted it to react, so he had to press like it was a real button, didn't he?).

"Hey, Steve, whatcha up to?"

Honestly, couldn't Tony talk normal english instead of this slang?

"Hello, Tony."

Just stay polite.

"So, Barton and Romanov have left us for Ouagadougou – don't ask me where that is – and Bruce and Josie..." He faded for a moment.

"Who's Josie?" Steve asked.

"Dunno, man. I always forget her name, but it's Thor's girlfriend."

"You mean Jane Foster."

"Yup, that's it. So, Foster and Bruce are having fun with Thor and his hammer – you won't believe it, but it has a _name_! And nobody can pronounce it – well, I can, and everybody else, but, honestly, who names their weapon _Mjölnir_? And this strange 'Ö' letter... well, whatever... Oh, fun, yeah, I mean they are in the lab with it, they're not... whatever.

Anyways, Pepper isn't here either. She's in L.A. right now, and I got nobody that would go to the cinema with me. There is a re-run of 'Wall-E', and I failed to watch it before, and I don't want to go alone. So, care to join me?"

Steve thought about it.

"What's the movie about?", he asked cautiously.

"Well, humans have left earth, and there is just one little robot cleaning up, and he finds the last plant, and then a spaceship comes and takes him and the plant with him, and then, at the end, humans come back to earth.", Tony summarized. "And it's animated. And no gunfire, no bombs, so you should be safe."

Steve chose to ignore the last part.

"When do you want to go?", he questioned, remembering him wanting to give Tony one last chance.

"Dunno, saturday at eleven? The cinema is called- oh, you know what? I'll get you at, let's say, ten thirty?"

"Okay."

"Great, see you then." Tony hung up without saying goodbye. He left a miserable Captain America.

Showering for the third time this day – he usually showered when he was thinking or making decisions. Unlimited hot water was the only good thing about this century. – Steve thought this phone call over. The movie sounded harmless. But he didn't like the cinemas in this time.

"Okay, Rogers, now you are becoming picky. It is not Tony's fault that Moll took you to 'Apollo 18'. And it's not Tony's fault you were scared by that movie. 'WALL-E' will be completely harmless, and you will like it. Also, you wanted to give him another chance."

Steve shook his head. So now he was already talking to himself. Where the hell would that lead? This time was driving him insane!

"I didn't cry!"

"Yes, you did. I saw you wiping a tear away."

"I didn't. This big screens... my eyes are just not used to that, so they are watering."

"Yeahhhh... suuuure!"

"That's the truth!"

"Liar!"

"I'm not lying!"

"Yes, you are! Captain America, fattest liar on earth... I'm disappointed!"

"That's-"

"Whatever. Tell me, Cap, why did you move out? House too big for you?"

"That's none of your business!"

"My house, my business."

"But it's my life, and whatever I'm doing with it is _my _business and nobody else's!"

Tony rolled his eyes – Steve could see it. The movie was over and they had – or rather Tony had – decided that he wanted to walk a little. Which was why they were now walking along some smaller streets. Steve wouldn't have thought that not all streets were so monstrous.

"And" Steve decided to pull his last weapon. "Pepper told you that you won't even think about it."

The billionaire sighed.

"Yeah, whatever. Just one question?"  
"No."

"Okay, so was it because of the movie incident?"

"I said no."

"Yeah, and I decided not to care."

"You're an ass, Tony."

"You have no idea!" he suddenly spat.

"No idea of what?"

"You were _not _the one who grew up without a father, without a mother! My father drove himself crazy while searching for you! He didn't sleep, he often enough didn't eat, he-"

"Well, you've got that from him." Steve shot back.

Tony spun around to face him.

"You were my hero!" he growled. "Since I was young, I always heard the stories of you greatness, your hero-ness, how nice and clean and whatever you were, and what great stuff you did! Those were my bed-time stories, my all-the-day stories, all I ever got from him! And I always told him that, one day, I'll be his Captain America, just for him. And everytime he told me that I couldn't ever reach that! Because you had been better in everything!"

Tony pushed Steve back against a wall. The street was small, too small for cars, and dark. Tony had insisted on going that way, it would be a shortcut.

"I was _never _good enough! Not for him, and my mother didn't care about me anyways. I would come down to the lab with drawings of him, and you, and me, and he would send me away. Got worse in school."

His anger had been replaced by bitterness.

"When I came to him, wanting to show him a test where I got a good mark, he would absent-mindedly look at it and then shoo me away, saying something along the lines that oh yeah, how nice it was and that I should go somewhere else and not interrupt him, he had a trace. I'd better study or be quiet, and I shouldn't annoy my mother. I was freaking _six _or something! And then I buried all that. Every day, I kicked the great hero Captain America out of my life. I build myself my own life, became my own master. Nobody could bait me with challenges to be as good as you were. Everything you did from my father's stories, I didn't do. And I was good at it! I kept the company, I invented, I became my own hero! And then Fury dragged me into this freakshow, and there were you! The man I wanted to reach so desperately, yet never could. And then I realized: You were not as good, as clean, as nice, as heroic as my father wanted me to believe! You were just another guy, better than some, worse than others. So all the time, my father had lied to me _again_!"

Tony gave Steve a final push and turned to walk away. The super soldier didn't know what to say.

"So, should I say that I'm sorry?" he asked finally, as Tony was already ten metres ahead of him.

"You could just fucking vanish out of my life!" came the answer.

"Well, that's what I tried! I moved out of the tower, and back into my apartment. I didn't even want to see you again-"

"So it's me, right?"

"Isn't it always?"

"You're trying to give me the fault for not acting like I was your daddy or something? 'Oh, hey, Steve, look, this is a smartphone. Push this button, and you can call someone!' – 'Hey, great, Tony! Thanks for showing me' – 'You're welcome, Steve!' Is it that what you want?"

They had reached some small bar which door and windows were the only things providing light in the small street. It was noisy. Why hadn't they noticed before?

Suddenly, the door opened and a group of men stumbled out, momentarily increasing the noise.

Steve's serum enhanced vision automatically focused on them. They were eight men, about as tall as himself, but much broader. Exactly the kind of people that one would expect to start a fight when drunk.

They were slurring, obviously drunk beyond recall.

Steve tensed and watched them restarting the fight they had obviously been having inside. It reminded him of nights decades ago, where he would say something and then end up with a bloody nose.

Insults were exchanged between the men, getting worse and worse. And then, the first one insulted one another's mother.

It took Steve some seconds to realize that the men had actually started a brawl and were now blocking the street. Tony was on the other side of the bunch. Whom did he wait for? Steve? Pretty sure not.

One of the drunks was pushed by another one and staggered towards him. When the man stopped one step before Steve, he noticed the scent of cheap alcohol, vomit and sweat. A disgusting mixture.

"Whatchur lukn' att?(1)" the man slurred.

This was when it all went wrong. Getting another push, the man stumbled towards Steve, who shoved the hand that reached for his shoulder away, lightly.

"Ditcha hit me?(2)" the drunk growled.

"'ey guuyys, he hit Brad!(3)" a not-so-drunk called.

"Who'sat, Braaaad?(4)" a blonde asked.

The not-so-drunk pushed the blonde aside and tottered towards Steve. Well, maybe not not-so-drunk but really drunk.

"Yera bastard 'n ah hate bastars.(5)"

"I didn't hit him-" Steve ducked unter the fist that was thrown at him, just to be hit in the ribs by Brad. It didn't hurt much, but he was taken by surprise and the impact punched the air out of his lungs. What had he gotten himself into again?

"Aye, Jimmy, jus' help me. Wer gonna do 'im." not-so-drunk said.

Jimmy managed to kick Steve in the knee while he was occupied by not-so-drunk. Steve flinched and got a blow from the blonde, whom he managed to trip.

Tony wasn't quite sure what to do. True, his team member was just being beat up by a couple of drunks looking like heavywheight professional world champion boxers... but that was Captain America, after all. The star-spangled man with a plan. Then he saw Steve getting three hits at once. Why the hell didn't the guy _do _anything?!

Well, okay. One guy suddenly found himself in a heap of garbage. Maybe there was hope left for the Captain, because Tony did not really want to have to save Captain Americas star-spangeled backside. But then someone managed to kick the blonde between the legs, probably rendering him sterile – Tony flinched himself – and the Captain fell down on his knees.

Tony decided to act, because getting kicked there was really something he wouldn't even wish Rogers.

"Okay, guys, I think you got it all wrong." he stepped up.

"Do you want trouble, sweetie?" Another man got out of the shadows. Letting his cigarette fall and putting it out with his boot, he halted before Tony, blowing some smoke towards him. Not only that this guy was at least two heads higher than him and had muscles like the Hulk, the additional harsh voice that surely came from smoking made the scenario even scarier.

"Ahm..." Why didn't his super brain make up a good answer when he desperately needed one?

"See, that guy your friends are beating up, he's kinda my friend."

More smoke into his face. "Aren't you Tony Stark?"

Tony nodded. The push to his chest was unexpected and made him stumble backwards. His back met another body. Re-arranging his body balance, he slowly turned around. He bit his lip, analyzing the facts.

Next thing he knew, he was on hands and knees, choking violently. He hadn't even seen it coming. The taste of metal was in his mouth. After that, a kick to the ribs. He rolled on his side and tried to cover his head with his arms.

Steve felt being violently yanked upwards to face cigarette man, who had pushed Tony towards the crowd. He was pretty sure his nose was bleeding, his jaw felt swollen, and his right hand hurt even more than the rest of his body – the result of probably 250 lbs stepping on it. Also, his groin was still sending red bolts of pain through his body.

"Captain America." cigarette man grinned. "Pleasure meeting you."

There was a fist and then his view went black and his body numb.

**I have honestly no idea how one speaks when drunk and american. I don't even have an idea how one speaks when drunk and speaking my language, so I just made that up. Here's the translation, in case I wrote total nonsense:**

**(1) What are you looking at?**

**(2) Did you hid me?**

**(3) Hey guys, he hit Brad! (That wasn't too hard, I think.)**

**(4) Who's that Brad?**

**(5) You are a bastard, and I hate bastards!**

**I hope you enjoyed it so far, as the action is about to start now. **

**But another thing is about to start in 3 days, and that's school. What do I want to say with that? **

**School=studying**

**Studying=less time**

**Less time=stress**

**Stress=less muse**

**Less muse=less story-writing**

**Less story-writing=less updates :(**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***

**In this case, I HAD to edit it, because Steve seemed waaaaay to weak. He still does, but that's stuff I can explain later on :)**

**I'm sorry :( But I won't stop writing, that's for sure!**

**And if you are playing scattergories (I hope that is the right name; you pick a letter of the alphabet, and now you and the people playing with you have to find a city, country, river, band name, vegetable or whatever you have agreed on [12 different topics] with this letter as the first as fast as they can), always remember Ouagadougou as a city, that will probably save you, because nobody EVER takes Ouagadougou as a city (and it does exist! It is the capital of Burkina Faso, Africa).**


	5. Vodka

**Hi :) Since one anonymous reviewer told me I should update every day until school starts, I'm trying to. And I think I'm doing a great job... so far.**

**I don't own WALL-E or the Avengers. I also don't speak a word russian (except for 'Da.', but that is because I watch too many movies). So, anything russian in here is completely (c) to Google Translator (meaning it's probably wrong), and I'll give you the english translation at the end of the chapter.**

**I also don't want to appear racist towards russians, I just want Natasha to speak russian a bit, and that with a criminal, so it is a russian criminal. I am in no way against russians, and if I am affronting anyone with this, I am truly sorry.**

"I said I set a meeting for this friday, seven o'clock, and yet you are not complete! What was so hard to understand?" Fury bellowed. "Right now, here are Dr Banner and Agent Romanov, so _where is the rest_?!"

"Agent Barton is still-"

"Yeah, I know." Fury cut Natasha off. "Recovering from the mission. I did not exspect him anyways, he can hardly walk. But I am still missing Thor, Stark and Rogers! Can anyone _please _explain that to me?!"

When nobody responded, the director went on: "Who has seen Stark the last time?"

"Me." Bruce stated. "He was on his way to the cinema."

"Cinema?" Natasha asked.

"He wanted to take Steve to 'WALL-E'."

"He wanted to take Steve to 'WALL-E'?" Fury repeated, stressing every word. "Rogers and Stark are not exactly friends. Rogers moved out of the tower because he couldn't stand Stark. I highly doubt he would go to the cinema with him, and I also highly doubt that Stark would watch 'WALL-E'."

"That's what he said." Bruce shrugged.

_"How long will it take?" Tony asked._

In about half an hour, the rendering should be complete.,_ JARVIS answered._

_"Well, don't wait for me, then, honey." the billionaire said, getting up._

_"Where are you going?"_

_"Bruce? That you? Where the hell did you hide all the time?"_

_"I was over there." the scientist pointed to a corner hardly visible from the desk Tony was sitting at. _

_"So, where are you going?" he repeated his question._

_"Me? Oh, yeah, cinema. There's a re-run of 'WALL-E', and-"_

_"What's that?"_

_"You know, a little robot cleans up the planet after humanity went to space because of the pollution, and he finds the last plant."_

_"I've heard of that. Isn't that this animated movie from 2008? That unleashed this media frenzy about animated movies and greenpeace and everything?"_

_"Gotcha, doctor! And since you are going to run the 'Mjölnir'-project in approximately ten minutes, when Jane and Thor are back from shopping, and since those two traitorous agents have left us for Ouagadougou, aaaand since Pepper, biggest traitor of 'em all, has left us as well, guess who's coming with me?"_

_"Not Steve, is it?"_

_"Well, who else is left?"_

_"Seriously, Tony, the guy is-"_

_"Nah, don't worry, he's fine! WALL-E is a very nice movie, even three-year olds could watch it!"_

_"Just be nice to him. And have fun!" With these paradoxic words, the doctor left._

Fury shook his head. "Well, I remember the last time Steve was in the cinema. Not good."

The glass door slipped open and revealed not only Thor, but also Jane and Pepper, and – surprise – Clint. He didn't look anywhere near good. His whole right arm was still bandaged, he was severely limping and there were dark shadows under his eyes, along with some cuts.

"Hi." he said and fell on the chair Natasha had pulled over for him.

"Coffee?"

The plea towards his favourite assassin was met with a soft chuckle. Brows rising, Fury watched as Natasha got up and got her colleague strong black coffee. Natasha Romanov bringing someone coffee? In which parallel universe did that happen?

"I'm sorry we're late." Pepper apologized. "I didn't calculate the traffic in."

She looked around.

"Where's Tony?"

"That's what I thought you could explain to me."

But she shook her head.

"I haven't seen him since I left for L.A. That was one week ago."

"And Rogers?"

"Not since we came back from New Mexico."

Fury sighed.

"Stark goes nowhere without his phone. If we use GPS tracing, we'll find it. And Stark." Natasha said.

"And Steve might as well be there, too." Clint added. "Maybe Stark dragged them to some bar, and now Steve doesn't know what to do with drunk-as-hell Stark."

"Wouldn't be the first time." Natasha agreed and walked over to Fury, who had already lauched the search.

Not removing her eyes from the screen, she called over to Clint: "Remember that russian bar here? In the only part of New York City you shouldn't visit without ten bodyguards and a truckload of weapons?"

The archer scoffed. "Please don't, Natasha. My life's crappy enough without _that_ particular memory."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The bar was empty except for the barkeeper who was busy cleaning up shattered glass as Natasha walked in. She was dressed in leathery black skinny pants, heels that were so high even she could barely walk in them, an equally black top and her leather jacket, black as well. She looked like she absolutely belonged there.

"бурная ночь?", she asked casually.

The barkeeper whipped around. He was american, approximately fifty, was a good head smaller than Natasha, had very little hair and was looking quite... shabby, to be honest. Totally matched his bar.

"I – I'm sorry?"

Scared. That was good.

"Sorry. Thought you were russian. Can a woman get something to drink here, or are you closed?"

"Sure. Sure. What do you want?"

"You have водка?"

"Vodka? Of course."

He poured her a glass. A rather small one.

_Romanov, you are not getting drunk when on duty, are you? _Fury radioed.

She smiled and downed the vodka.

"What happened? Last night, I mean. Or is this usual?" She pointed towards the shattered glass.

"Oh, no. No. Just some guys had drank too much."

"Somebody got hurt?"

"Ah, no."

Natasha nodded. "Good."

"Yes."

Awkward silence.

"Do you -"

" - want to have another glass? Yes, please." Another smile.

"And those guys over there?" She nodded casually towards some snoring men.

"Oh, yes. Those were the drunks. Just... you know, sleeping until waking up with a good hangover."

"Some friends of mine were here, last night. You didn't happen to see them? One's rather tall, blonde, broad shoulders, the other one is a bit smaller, black-brown hair that's usually a mess, probably dressed in a suit."

"I – uh, I don't know, but one moment, I'm asking my wife." The barkeeper shuffeled away and vanished behind a curtain.

She downed the next glass and waited. Luckily her alcohol tolerance was so high.

"черная вдова."

Frowning, Natasha turned around. One of the sleepers had waken up and was massaging his temples.

"похмелье, танк?" She asked coldly.

"You remember." he said.

"Vladimir the tank. I remember stupidity whenever I meet it."

He grinned, showing irregular rows of yellow teeth.

_You know that guy, Tasha? _Clint asked with disgust in his voice.

"What did you do to my friends?"

"ничего."

"Liar!", she spat with sudden fury.

"I did miss you."

"Where are my friends?", she asked again, stressing every word.

"Black Widow have no friends."

_Romanov, stay calm. _Fury reminded her.

"A tall blonde one and a slightly smaller one with black hair."

Vladimir the tank laughed.

"I not betray who pay me. Not like you."

"I can make you tell me everything .", she growled.

"очаровательный. You helpless."

"You were employed by someone, you said it. Whom?"

The russian grinned.

"I like my head. I not say. I not know."

"_I know you know!_"

_Bribe him, don't threaten. He might still be useful. _

"Convince me."

She played with a fifty-dollar bill.

"Fifty dollar for every useful thing you can remember."

"Hundred."

_Don't give in. _Fury advised her.

"Fifty. Or you can as well stay in a pretty cell for some years."

"There were men. I not know before."

She rised her eyebrow.

"How many?"

"Ten."

She slowly folded the bill and waved it suggestively.

"Anything else?"

"They pay good. And vodka. _Free _vodka. For me and the guys."

"Do you have names?"

"Brad. Jimmy. One called 'Thor'. Not his real name, I know. Wassili Stefanovka. You remember?"

"Called the 'Lead Fist'."

Vladimir grinned. "Yes. Now give me money."

She came over to him, but he held up his hand.

"Slowly."

"I am moving slowly."

Natasha held up the money and pulled a card out of a pocket.

"If you remember more, call this number. You will get paid. Understood?"

The tank nodded.

"You never here.", he said and took both the card and his money.

"Agreed."

Slowly, she went backwards until she was at the counter again. For the barkeeper, she dropped ten dollars and finally got out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"So, a group of russians abducted Steve and Tony?", Clint asked. "Why? Where? Where to? Who? That's the questions that are still open. Any ideas?"

"Iron Man suits and the super soldier serum.", Bruce answered. "If you have both secrets, you could rule the world. Additionally, the two leaders of the Avengers, the group everybody knows about right now."

"We don't even know if our enemies are russian.", Fury reminded them. "We know that a man, Wassili 'Lead Fist' Stefanovka, was involved."

"Who's that?", Jane spoke up for the first time.

"He's dangerous. He is really dangerous. Russian crimial, known to FBI, CIA, DIA, NSB... SHIELD, of course, and some smaller security services that I can't speak about. Stefanovka originally has a boxing background, as a young man he was a rather famous middleweight. Then he started dealing with drugs and got deeper and deeper into the russian mafia. Even some russian politicians label him as dangerous. He is not only a drug dealer, marksman, kidnapper, blackmailer. He deals with anything. Ask Stefanovka, and he'll get you anything, starting with cheap prostitutes, but also stolen cars, yachts, weapons, drugs no matter how many... The price is high, but he is fast and very discreet. Wherever you are, he can get you everything that's legal or illegal in your country. And in high quantities. Has his own fleet of getaway cars, marksmen, stuff like that. There are loads and loads of his criminal records, but so far nobody managed to lock him up for more than some months."

"So a mafia lord just like in every other movie.", Clint summarized. "You know him, Tasha?"

"Who's this other guy, Vladimir the tank?", Bruce interrupted.

Natasha frowned. "That's difficult. We know he is just some steps from being like Stefanovka, but... he's either too stupid to ever reach Stefanovka, or he is just very good. We can't prove _a thing_. His nickname 'the tank' comes from the way he participates in punch-ups. And the way how he treats his inferiors. Has also connections to the russian mafia. Stefanovka is probably his boss."

"Then why did he tell you that Stefanovka was there? That makes no sense!", Bruce said.

"Stefanovka can't be found, he can't be traced. He's incredibly careful.", Hill said. "He came across SHIELD's way some times, but we never go him. Everybody who knows a bit about the criminal underground knows Stefanovka's name, but nobody ever found him."

"So we're at a dead end.", Clint summarized and downed the last bit of his coffee.

**So, the translations:**

**(1) Rough night?**

**(2) Vodka**

**(3) Black Widow.**

**(4) Hangover, tank?**

**(5) Nothing.**

**(6) Charming**

**I also made Vladimir the tank speak bad english, if anybody noticed. Again, I don't mean to affront anybody.**

**And if there is anybody called Wassili Stefanovka, I did not relate 'my' Wassili Stefanovka to him/her. Similarities are not intended.**

**Apart from that, I hope you enjoyed the chapter... and I KNOW you are all desperate to review, because that keeps the chapters coming!**

**Thank you, ladies and gentlemen! *bows* *OwletQueen out***

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	6. Crazy drunk terrorist russian ninjas

**Okay :( You are all right. I updated the same chapter twice... Shame on me! I'm really sorry. This was finished yesterday, but apparently I am too stupid to use this website... :'( **

***I'm going in a dark corner now and kill myself. See you!***

**WATCH OUT: Swearing in this one... Don't like, don't read. (There's a small summary at the end of the chapter!)**

Head, right hand, left upper arm, left ankle, stomach... , Steve silently listed the places his body hurt. Well, thinking did hurt, too.

Slowly, he tried moving. Apparently his hands were tied behind his back, but his legs were free.

Before he tried to sit up, his soldier senses finally kicked in and he opened his eyes. Dark, dark everywhere.

Just don't freak out, he reminded himself, slowly moving into a sitting position.

To be honest, his left ankle hurt like hell. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stand for some time.

And it was cold. Cold was horrible. Cold was ice. Cold was being alone. And it was cold in the dark – or dark in the cold. It didn't matter. Cold and dark. Dark and cold. Everywhere.

He sat up. Cold. Dark. _Freezing _cold, actually, and he couldn't see anything. He couldn't pull the jacket closer around him, because his hands were tied. Tied hands. Dark. Cold. Not good.

_Bucky isn't here,_ a voice in his head said. Why did it sound like Stark? Even Stark would be a nice company here.

Or, well, he wouldn't. Slowly, Steve's mind recalled the most recent happenings. Tony's harsh words, being pushed, feeling horrbily guilty. The russian bar. Steve had learned some russian, and he was pretty sure the bar had been russian. The gang. Being beat up in a dark street again. No Bucky. His reflexes didn't quite kick in. Why? Cigarette man. Then a punch to the head. And then nothing. Waking up in the darkness, coldness, hands tied.

Even slower, Steve started to remember more. Seeing the ice come nearer and nearer. Peggy's voice. Then nothing. Freezing cold. Waking up in the hospital room. Director Fury. Seventy years gone. The Avengers. Chitauri. Moving out of the tower. _No Bucky_.

He swallowed thickly and tore at his handcuffs.

_Breathe, _Tony-in-his-head said.

Why Tony? Why not - someone else?

Okay. Okay, just stay calm. You're alright, Rogers. You're not dead – he didn't dare to add 'yet' – you're alright. Tony was with you. Tony is probably here somewhere.

_And you really want me around?, _Tony-in-his-head scoffed.

Yeah. Better Tony than being alone. Tony. Tony? Tony had a light in his chest, didn't he? Light means no darkness. No darkness means no fear. No fear means feeling better. Feeling better means good. Good. So, where was Tony?

_What if I'm not there?_, Tony-in-his-head asked.

_Stay calm._, Fury-in-his-head advised him.

Great. Fury too. Who else was in his head?

Steve decided that a little bit Natasha would be nice. But there was no Natasha.

What would she say?

"Observe your situation.", he tried with a professional voice. It seemed more like a squeak. Not very encouraging.

Okay. Maybe he was not alone.

_You probably are alone, Rogers._, Tony-in-his-head said.

_Don't listen to Stark._, Fury-in-his-head reminded him.

Steve wondered if he had gone mad.

But a polite 'hello' was always good. Maybe he really was not alone.

"Hello?"

No, more self-confident!

"Hello!"

This was better. This was Captain America being very polite to persons who were – in a dark, cold room with him, where he was totally alone, and nobody could hear him, and they were probably going to kill him, or torture him, and he was alone, and he had gone mad, and there were voices in his head -

He started shivering. Why had it to be so damn cold?!

_Now, come on! Don't start crying, I thought you were a soldier!_

"Bucky!", Steve exclaimed, feeling stupid directly afterwards.

Bucky-in-his-head laughed and poked Steve-in-his-head in the side.

Why am I in my own head as well?, Steve wondered.

They were sitting on a couch. Everybody. The Howling Commandoes, Fury, the Avengers, Pepper, Agent Hill... and Agent Coulson as well.

Actually, it was the living area in STARK tower, but outside there was Brooklyn.

Well, okay, guys. Can you help me?, he asked silently.

They all shook their heads – Steve wondered briefly if he had really gone insane – except for Bucky who nodded.

_Use your head a little._, he teased.

It wasn't exactly a _poof_, but suddenly, they were gone, and he was surrounded by darkness again.

Use your head – Bucky's words echoed.

Steve decided to talk to himself.

"So, okay, Rogers. Where are you? In a cold, dark room. Don't think about it. Who are you? I think that's easy. You are Steven Rogers, also known as Captain America. You are a super human due to the super soldier serum. This makes you stronger than anyone else alive and also enhances your senses..."

Stronger than anyone... so, you basically had to make things unbreakable to make him _not _break them.

"Just like the tablets I had to practise with.", Steve said loudly, remembering how he had broken at least three of these tablets (and driven Agent Moll insane).

That would mean that if he was handcuffed with normal handcuffs, he could rather easily break them... or rip them apart or whatever.

So he focused on that. Slowly, he build up the pressure in his arms. Hands turned to fists. The metal was cutting into his skin, but that was rather okay. His right hand hurt, but that was not important. His left upper arm hurt, too, but again, the only objective was to have his hands free again.

It was tough metal, but he could feel it slowly giving way. And then, suddenly, a light _zing _and his hands were free. Free!

Steve grabbed his jacket and pulled it closer around him. His fingers traced out of habit along one of the pockets. Out of habit, that was because Fury had told him to have this iPhone of his (not that he had wanted it) always at ready. It was of course not an ordinary iPhone, but a SHIELD-ed one, meaning that it didn't send out any radiation or other little stuff that could be used for tracing his phone, and lots of other scientific words had been thrown at him when he had been explained why this phone was so awesome.

And, he realized with a sudden bang, the phone's screen provided light. Light! LIGHT!

But it wasn't there. It. Wasn't. There.

Oh, god.

Fury was going to kill him.

Even worse, there was _no light_!

Steve snuggeled deeper into his jacket, hoping it would provide a little warmth.

That was when he heard a small groan from... somewhere. Someone. There was a person!

Person means not being alone. Not being alone is good.

He hated being alone. But he wasn't. Not anymore. There was another person!

"Hello?", he asked. And then, stupidly, he added: "Is there anyone?"

"Cap?", a voice asked, sounding groggy. "That you?"

"Stark?", he asked warily.

A curse, and then movements.

"Fuck.", Stark swore again.

Silence. Then: "Where are we?"

"I don't know.", Steve confessed, slightly embarrassed, though he didn't know why.

" 'kay. So, kidnapped again. Get's a bit boring, right?"

Steve didn't know what to respond to that. Stark had been abducted before?

"Those guys, the russians. What'd they do so the great Captain America couldn't defend himself?"

"Caught me off guard, and not even I am invincible. I do still feel pain, you know."

"So, a bug in the great system of yours?"

"Well, _you _didn't do anything, for example."

"Well, _I'm _Tony Stark - "

" - and also you are imprisioned here!"

"True, but I can just build a suit and get out of here. _Fly _out of here, I shoud probably say! Whereas _you_, my dear..." He left the sentence unfinished, but it was clear what he wanted to say.

"Look, Tony, I'm sorry.", Steve tried.

"_Sorry_? For what? You're Captain America, Captain Greatness, Captain Supercool! You don't need to apologize to someone who is _so _below you!", Tony taunted.

"I don't think myself above you.", Steve answered.

"If you wouldn't, you would have opened up my handcuffs already.", the billionaire snapped.

"I can't see!", he protested.

"Then use your goddamn ears!"

Steve slowly crawled over to Tony. Or at least where he suspected Tony to be.

When his forehead bumped against something warm and he heard Tony's reproachful "Ow!", he sat next to the billionaire and searched for his hands. The metal around the wrists was cold, as were the hands.

"This may hurt a bit.", he warned.

"Yeah, whatever."

The thin chain that connected the bracelets was broken in a matter of moments.

"You alright?", Steve asked concerned. He didn't want to have to deal with a grumpy Tony for whatever long time.

"I am sitting in a dark, cold room somewhere after being abducted by a group of fucking terrorist russian ninjas who are drunk and crazy and the are going to kill me and torture me and I will never see Pepper _again _and she'll kill me and there'll be no sexy time for _years _and we're gonna miss the meeting with Fury, and Pepper will kill me even more, and she won't speak with me for _fucking decades_, and what if I run out of power and I miss my bed and coffee and central heating and tower and workshop and my music and JARVIS and my cars and I'm hungry and I'm cold and I can't see a _fucking thing _and the terrorist russian drunk crazy ninja mafiosi sadist afghanistan terrorists who are evil are going to slice me _into pieces _and rip out every single hair and cut off my _limbs _and kick me and threaten me and there is nobody I can have an intelligent conversation with, so I am going to die like hell, and you ask _if I'm alright_?! Are you fucking crazy or something or haven't you _noticed _how crappy _my fucking life is and how much I am going to DIE_?!"

His words echoed in the silence.**  
**

**I just decided I might come back as a zombie and continue the story... am I worth your time? Because then I'd do so. :)**

**The summary: Steve wakes up in a dark, cold room. He can't cope with this, because he hates the cold (Bucky died in the cold, the last time he saw Peggy it was in the cold, the cold ice separated him from his friends forever), and he also doesn't like the cold. However, he manages to open his handcuffs, and shortly after Tony wakes up, too. Steve opens his handcuffs as well, and Tony verbally attacks Steve again. After that, Tony has a small freak-out about how horrible his life is right now, and Steve doesn't answer to that.**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	7. Tracing suspicions

**Let's see what I don't own: The Avengers, Apple, WALL-E, the Pentagon and JFK airport. Did I tell you I don't own the USA or NYC, too? Well, I don't.**

**And, in case I had updated the right chapter yesterday, I would have updated a chapter every day three days in a row. I just hope the quality of my writing didn't suffer under these conditions...**

**School starts tomorrow, and thus updates will become less frequent... sadly. But, let's say, one chapter every one or two weeks? Would that be okay?**

It was cold around her. Too cold. She tried snuggeling deeper into the already thick blankets. The heating was cranked up, but it wasn't enough. The empty spot next to her was radiating waves of ice-cold air.

What had happened this time? What did these people want from him? Wasn't it enough now? Hadn't there been enough people who kidnapped, threatened his life or hurt him? Obviously not.

No matter what was up, or what experiment he was working at, he would always come at night. Between ten or eleven o'clock. Even if he didn't sleep. Even if he was still working with his phone. He was there. That was what was important. He was there.

But now he wasn't. And his part of the bed was empty, unused, cold.

Where are you, Tony?, she asked silently. What has happened this time?

This night, sleep was out of the question, she was sure.

So she stood up and wrapped herself in her bathrobe. With bare feet, she tiptoed to the living area. Bruce was, she knew, still in the lab, trying to make a connection, somehow, somewhere. Natasha was down there with him.

And once again, she asked herself what had happened in Natasha's past. What had made her come to know people like Stefanovka or Vladimir 'the tank'?

Slowly, Pepper sank into one of the couches.

What had this woman made to want to become a spy, an assassin, a _murderer_? There was no nice words for this. Not matter how decent a person Natasha was, she was a murderer. World-class assassin.

And Clint, he too.

They hadn't spoken much, he and her. Basically, he didn't speak. True, with Natasha he did talk a lot, but in english-russian. And with Tony. Apart from that, the archer stayed on his own. And he still sat on the fridge. Pepper pointed it out every now and then, but she had accomodated to this. She had accomodated to a lot.

A small movement to her right made her look around. A figure had slipped out of the shadows that were the kitchen.

"Miss Potts.", a male voice said, strangely familiar.

Clint. How often had she told him to call her Pepper? Apparently not often enough.

"Agent Barton.", she replied.

"Would you like to come down to the lab for a moment?"

"Have you found out something new?", she asked, shortly wondering how he could come from the lab when he had just slipped out of the kitchen. Then she remembered how Clint could appear everywhere. She had the strong suspicion that he used the air vent system to come and go unnoticed.

"I think you could say so.", he answered.

They didn't speak on the way down.

The lab was brightly lit up, every screen working.

"Pepper?" Natasha show up next to her. The red head shortly exchanged a glance with her partner and then led Pepper to the middle of the lab.

"I have some... sources. And I found out some interesting things. For example, the whole abduction thing was planned. The planning went so far that even the re-run of WALL-E was sync'd with Thor's arrival, Clint's and my mission and your trip to LA. We suspect a traitor really deep in the defense of the USA. Someone who must have hacked into SHIELD files, because otherwise they couldn't have known about Thor's arrival. Bruce is currently trying to hack into Pentagon, seeing if he finds something."

Pepper's eyes widened.

"And I don't think I will succeed.", Bruce said. "At least not without JARVIS."

"Why do you try without JARVIS? That makes no sense!", Pepper protested.

"He's shut down.", Natasha said carefully. "Whoever planned this whole thing was extremely cautious."

After a couple of seconds - and probably because Pepper looked like she was going to hyperventilate every moment, Natasha added: "We are rebooting him though."

Loud footsteps announced Fury coming into the lab. He had Hill on his tail.

"Found out anything new?"

Natasha shrugged, but Bruce spoke up: "Well, the Pentagon is apparently very well shielded. I won't get through, I'm afraid. Or if I would, they would probably recognize me."

"And we don't have hackers at SHIELD because we used to be able to have level ten clearance to everything."

"Why don't we have it anymore?", Clint asked.

"The Security Council decided to take it completely from us, since they found out somebody did not only abduct one world-class hacker who used to read every SHIELD-file, but also that somebody did hack into the security network. They fear SHIELD is responsible or that the mysterious gang we discovered will force Stark to reveal the secrets to them. Means that now we only have our own files, 'cause the Council thinks we ar traitors."

"Bastards.", Clint stated.

"So, what do we do?", Pepper asked.

"Miss Potts." Fury nodded towards her.

"Basically", he started explaining. "we have a some puzzle pieces, but we don't know what the picture is about, nor have we any that match. We know there is a group who abducted Stark and Rogers. We know that Stefanovka and Vladimir 'the tank' are involved. We suspect that Vladimir doesn't know much. We suspect further that Stefanovka is a spark plug. We don't know why exactly Rogers and Stark have been abducted, but we know that our enemies wanted to have exactly them. Why? Maybe because Stark is world's best technical engineer, knows the secret to the Iron Man suit as well as the ARC-reactor. Also, his father was involved into the super soldier project. Steve's DNA will hold a code to unlock Erskine's original formula. Stark is a genius, he might figure it out. Furthermore, Stark Industries is world's leading weapon manufacturing company. The systems are nearly inerrable, they are intelligent. Everybody who holds the latest Stark weapons can hold the key to world domination. Also, world's currently leading superhero team are the Avengers. Rogers is the captain, but Stark is his second-in-command. And, a fact that probably everybody who has accomodated himself with the topic knows, the Hulk is mainly controlled by Rogers. No offense, doctor, but it is the truth. Without Rogers and Stark, the Avengers are mainly disassembled. Next, Stark is rich and can afford a lot of money to buy freedom."

"That won't work, sir.", Natasha said. "When Stefanovka is involved, Stark would have to give away his whole fortune to buy freedom. I also think that there is an even higher boss, higher than Stefanovka, one who wants to stay anonymous."

"Sir, I don't quite understand.", Hill intervened. "Why should they, whoever they are, want the Avengers disassembled?"

"Since the Fantastic Four have stepped back two years ago, there hasn't been a superhero team. The only one you hear from occasionally is Johnny Storm, but just because of his motorbike events. World didn't hear or see them, but world didn't need them. Then, a new superhero team saves Manhattan and archieves world fame. They walk around having 'I will protect America with my life' litterally written on their chests. Especially Rogers. If there is a group of people who don't like America as it is, the Avengers are a threat for them. Disassembled, they aren't anymore."

"You mean it could be something like the Rio de Janeiro-happening?", the female agent asked.

"Exactly."

"But isn't 'world domination' a bit too much... science-fiction?", Pepper asked.

"I mean, groups who want to archieve dictatorship over the whole world appear in every other movie!", she added.

Fury nodded.

"True.", he said. "But, where do you think Hollywood has this idea from? Just because nodody managed to dictate the world doesn't mean nobody tried. Loki is a wonderful example for that, but there have been other groups who tried it in a different way. In most cases, the american security services can prevent it, only sometimes things really happen. Like 9/11."

Turning to everybody again, the director continued: "A group wanting to archieve world domination is of course just a wild guess. Maybe they just want a very good scientist in their rows, and Rogers is just an additional bonus."

A screen blinked up, followed by a short series of beeps.

"We found Steve's phone.", Bruce said and moved over. "A garbage can at Kennedy Airport?"

"So they are out of the country. Or at least out of the city.", Hill said.

"Or they at least want us to believe that.", Fury said, starting to reach for his communicator.

"I want every surveillance video of JFK airport and surrounding fom the last forty-eight hours checked for Stefanovka, Rogers, Stark and other anomalies."

He stormed out of the room and continued to bark orders: "I want a full blockade and five recon teams in there. No, I don't care what the council says. This has top priority right now! Nobody is allowed to leave the airport, all flights are cancelled until further notice! The list of private planes departure and arrival of the last week, every person's name who has set foot there for the last two weeks. And I need criminologist Dexter at base ASAP..."

Pepper sank on a chair. It was all too much. Terrorists, abduction, world dominance, blocking JFK ariport... and Tony gone.

"Hey." Natasha said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's going to be alright. Sta- Tony is strong, he's intelligent, he'll be able to figure out. And we're on it, too. An abduction in which SHIELD was involved was always cleared without any casualties." The last one was a lie, but Natasha didn't intend to tell Pepper that.

Pepper bit her lip. She didn't want to cry. Not in front of all these people.

Hill had stayed and was working with one of the computers, too. Barton was next to her, and Natasha and Bruce...

She swallowed. Everything is going to be alright, she reminded herself and sat up more straight.

Pepper cleared her throat. "Right.", she said. "Everything is going to be alright. I'm afraid I'm not of much use here, but I have the feeling you have been in the lab the whole night. You must be hungry; I'm getting you something. What do you need?"

"Oooh, food.", Natasha sighed, giving her own best to lighten the mood up. "I'm starving... would you make pancakes or something? And coffee?", she added hopefully.

Pepper smiled. "Sure. Anything else, anyone?"

"Lots of coffee.", Clint, who had moved over to another computer and was furiously typing, said.

"Or tea.", Bruce added with his Concentrated Voice. "And waffles – I would litterally _die _for some waffles now."

"What about you, Agent Hill?"

"I think coffee would be great. And, yes, pancakes also, if it's okay."

"Of course. I'll be back as soon as possible!", Pepper assured them, glad she could do something and keep her mind occupied.

Halfway out of the door, Hill called her back: "Miss Potts, would it be okay if I would gather some more SHIELD-agents in the lab? Computers here are way better than at base."

"Sure, no problem."

As in the kitchen, Pepper witnessed the first time that she had to switch the light on manually in Stark tower. It was nowhere near unpleasant, it was just switching on the light. It was just unusual. It reminded her of Tony's abduction.

The kitchen was a rather special place. When Steve still lived in the tower, he had sometimes been hit by the baking fever, a totally adorable character trait, Pepper thought. And the cookies or muffins or even cakes and pies sometimes had been delicious.

And then there was the food-miracle, as she called it. She had never questioned it, but every now and then, tasty food would appear in the fridge. Sometimes noodles, sometimes salad, even shawarma every now and then, but whatever it was, it was always handmade and delicious. Tony could be excluded, he couldn't cook (well, he called microwaving a frozen pizza or getting take-out cooking).

The rest of the night was filled with carrying thermos flasks full of strong coffee down to the lab and bringing the empty ones to the kitchen again. And of course preparing bowls of cookies and plates of waffles and pancakes. Mostly it was just microwave products.

Hill had commanded ten SHIELD-agents to the lab. They were using every accessible computer, and since Pepper knew every password, they were able to use every computer. JARVIS still hadn't finished rebooting, so they were on their own. That was the problem with a supercomputer like him: was he ever shut down, it took extremely much time until he was rebooted.

At some point, Jane had showed up in the lab as well, accompanied by Thor and Darcy.

Thor was a nice person, but he still didn't understand what so special about glowing glass was, except that you could play Fruit Ninja there (he loved Fruit Ninja). They couldn't use him during the research. And Darcy was no computer wizard, either.

The moment Jane had spotted Pepper, she told both of them to help Pepper. That had been quite a good idea, since Pepper was rather stressed. With her two new-found helpers, they went on supplying the researchers with coffee and food.

When they ran out of coffee, Darcy and Thor were sent for the next 24h-store.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At eight in the morning, Fury called for a conference to discuss what they had found out so far.

The results were frustrating.

Steve's mobile had been found, screen broken, dead.

There had been exactly seventeen private planes departing and five coming in at JFK airport in the last week. Eight limousines had been driven from there. Five of them returned. Six were rented by several more-or-less important people.

Apart from that, threehundred russians had been at the airport, and a total of more than two thousand people who already had a criminal record, those who had been caught with petty crimes included. All others were rather unknown to SHIELD, mostly businessmen and –women, some scientists, families, students, older people, travelling groups.

Also the surveillance videos didn't prove to be useful. They were few, of a bad quality and nothing extraordinare could be spotted.

The personal at the airport hadn't anything useful, either.

The only thing that was different was that there had been an unusual amount of big pieces of luggage. One super-rich, a Mr Al Abugajar, had sent some cars for his son, who was studying in New York. One had been a Bugatti with a pure gold cover.

One scientist had travelled with some of his instruments.

Then a whole orchester had taken their instruments with them, and three Steinway pianos were shipped to New Zealand.

Also, several dead bodies had been transferred.

The Security Council still didn't allow SHIELD to access the files, and Fury was in rather big trouble for blocking the entire JFK airport for ten hours.

"We don't know _a thing_.", Fury ended.

"And", he added as an afterthough. "if we aren't careful, the Security Council will consider SHIELD a threat and maybe shut us temporarily down."

"So, they don't believe us. They believe Tony and Steve just vanished on their own.", Pepper said, stunned.

"No.", Fury said, turning towards her. "They don't believe it is more than a simple case of abduction or backstreet murder. We should either wait for a ransom demand or for their dead bodies to appear."

Turning to his whole audience, which consisted of everything that was left of the Avengers, plus Pepper, Jane, Darcy, Hill and fifteen other SHIELD-agents, he continued: "The security council was never very warmhearted towards the Avengers. A group of freaks, they called them and wanted every single Avenger under constant supervision. I have never agreed with them, in my whole career as director of SHIELD, and often enough I have bypassed them. I am afraid with blocking JFK airport tonight, I went too far."

"If they shut SHIELD down, they will have to deal with some not-so-amused Avengers.", Natasha said dryly. "At least me, because I don't like being an unemployed criminal, and I think Clint would support me. But, if I understand correctly, the council bans us from researching the whole problem further?"

Fury nodded, his gaze dark. "I think you understood correctly, Agent Romanov. I am not allowed to use SHIELD-equipment, agents or money to research this."

Pepper frowned. "Director, what if a private person had a certain interest in continuing the research?"

"I don't see a problem there, but which private person has enough money for doing so?"

"And what if a company was interested in it?"

"I don't see a problem there, either."

"Well, I as a private person and as Co-CEO of Stark Industries have both the interest and money to have the research being continued. Could I employ a variety of persons who are, even if already otherwise employed, interested in this research? Because if I could, I would like to draw a number of contracts."

Fury didn't exactly smile, but he looked friendlier and nodded.

"Then, Miss Potts, you should start to work out the conditions."

**Okay, I sorta loooove the ending. Don't ask me why. **

**And what about you telling me what you think of this chapter with a review? :3 Pretty pleaseeeee...**

**Because reviews is what keeps me writing :D So, if you want the story continued, you should review. ;)**

**Pepperony is one hell of an awesome pairing!**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	8. All the light of the world

**So, a rather long chapter this time. I realize I should apologize for not updating, since I had this chapter finished for three days. My apology: I was lazy!**

**This time, Tony is again swearing, sorry for that, but, hey! It's Tony Stark!**

**And Steve's totally nervous :) The russian translations are at the end of the chapter... Enjoy!**

**Oh, by the way: I don't own 'Lord Of The Rings' (but I saw the trilogy and was also in the Hobbit twice :) ), and the information about the dog comes from hervissa, who asked an expert about that :) Thanks for that! Because I classify dogs this way: Big dog, ugly dog, nice dog, ooooh! a dog, small dog, hairy dog :D**

**And I have no idea about weapons, so thanks to Wikipedia for the information about the Makarow...**

"You are not going to cry, are you?", Tony asked sharply.

"N-no." The moment the word was out of his mouth and hung between them, Steve hated himself for stuttering.

"It's just cold!", he tried.

"Oh yeah.", came the answer.

How long had they been here? It was still dark, cold, partially clammy. By now, Steve had a list of approximately fifty persons he would rather have here instead of Tony. By now, his jacket seemingly didn't provide any warmth anymore. By now, his ankle was swollen. By now, he was fairly certain some guy with a big gun would suddenly enter and shoot them both. By now, he was hungry, and thirsty, and even more cold. By now, he wished desperately for the voices in his head to reappear.

"They are not going to kill us, are they?", he tried.

"Well, go out there and ask them.", came the answer.

He sighed.

"Tony, look, I'm really sorry it went this way. I didn't want to wake up in this time, either."

"Why not? You seem to have a pretty good time, don't you? With _my girlfriend _for example!"

"I- It's not like that. Pepper and I are just friends."

"I don't like people flirting with my girlfriend."

"I don't flirt."

"Oh, yeah?", came the retort from the billioniare.

"Can't you accept I'm sorry?"

"Doesn't make anything better, does it?"

"That's not the point."

"What is the point then?"

"We have been abducted by an unknown force. We don't know why, we don't know where we are, we don't know what they want to do with us. But if we don't stick together now, we might very well never get out of here.", Steve tried to explain.

"Yeah, fuck you, too."

"That's not what I mean! The Avengers need us!"

"Well, fuck the Avengers? Who cares?"

"The _world _needs us!"

"Fuck the world, then."

Steve sighed.

"We have to stick together. That doesn't work when all you want is insult me."

"Fuck you, Rogers! I'm not sticking with _you_!"

"Tony..."

"Tony this, Tony that – No! We don't have to stick together. No matter how high the ransom demand for me is, I'm getting out of here. Simple as that. _You _have to stick to me in order to get out of here."

"What if they don't want money?"

"You mean, sell Iron Man and Captain America as prostitutes? Your dirty mind, Rogers, your dirty mind..."

"That's NOT what I mean!"

"Then enlighten me with your oh-so-glorious insights, your Highness."

"You are a scientist and a genius, aren't you?"

"Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and scientist? Yep."

"Well, and you are Iron Man and CEO of Stark Industries, aren't you?"

"Oooh, and you are Captain Obvious, aren't you?"

"The Iron Man suit and the super soldier serum. As Iron Man, you know how to make an Iron Man suit. As a genius scientist, you could be able to unlock Erskine's original formula. Then, as CEO of Stark Industries, who manufacture intelligent weapons, you know how they work and how to make them. Our enemy would hold the key to world domination."

Tony groaned. "You're a fucking conspiracy theorist, Rogers! Fought the Red Skull too much, apparently."

Steve sighed.

"Look, Tony, this is a possibility."

"A possibility is also that a little green man will suddenly appear in front of us and take us to mars."

Steve didn't respond to that.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was probably five years or five seconds since they had last exchanged a word. The darkness, the coldness, the silence – it was crushing. Steve's jacket didn't provide any warmth anymore. It was so worse than anything that had happened to him before.

And then, finally: a noise other than Tony's breathing. It was a key that was turned in its lock. All in all, it were seven keys that were all turned in their locks, one after another. Then a bolt was undone. The door opened without a single sound and a ray of light fell into their cell. Steve didn't even recognize how much his eyes hurt from the sudden change of illumination, he was just glad for the light.

Tony next to him groaned and tried to block the brightness using his arm.

"Вы избавились от наручников. они были слишком неудобно, корректный?", a male voice said.

Steve could see Tony gritting his teeth and wondered what the russian had said. During the war he had heard and even learned some russian, but only single words. Tony on the other side seemed fluent.

"Что вы хотите?", the billionaire asked.

Within seconds, the man was next to Tony and yanked him upwards against the wall, gripping at the billionaire's collar. With his free hand, he pulled a Makarow out of its holster.

Pointing it at Steve, he growled: "Up. _Slowly_."

Steve raised his hands and stood up, while his brain spit out every information about the weapon. Russian semi-automatic pistol. Produced since 1952.

And, he added for himself, freaking _deadly _when pointed at your _face_, Rogers! Focus!

They were pushed outside, were three more men waited, all built like... well, tanks. Tanks in bullet-proof vests and with machine guns.

Steve started chewing on his bottom lip. What did these guys want from them? He hadn't comitted a crime, he had no debts involving russians.

Without words, tank-who-had-opened-the-door opened another door that had only been ajar. And suddenly, all the light of the world was directed at them.

Steve halted, unable to see anything, but a hard blow to his spine – undoubtedly with a machine gun – made him stumble forwards and made his ankle hurt even worse. He was surprised it could carry his weight.

Slowly, his eyes accomodated to the light. They were at the rear of some heavy duty vehicle. A ramp connected the big container on the truck with the ground, and in a semi circle, big floodlights were arranged, the gaps were filled with more of those heavily armed guards.

Another push, and he stood on the grass with Tony next to him.

Explore your surroundings, he told himself. Well, there was not much to explore. The fact that he hadn't even noticed that he had been in a container on a truck meant that said container was obviously very well spring-loaded. There were appoximately fifty guards. After his rebirth, Steve had never considered himself fragile or small, but that was exactly what he felt compared to those monsters of men.

Some of the men gave way and revealed an alley (if you could speak of one; there were no trees, but floodlights as borders). At its end, somewhere in the dark, Steve saw a white shadow, probably a plane.

It was rather obvious what was expected from them, and so he started walking towards the 'alley', hands still high over his head. He could hear Tony following him. His ankle hurt with every step, but he ignored it. There were things that were more important than a hurting ankle; not getting shot, for example.

The semi circle had a diameter of approximately ten metres, the 'alley' was maybe fifty long.

Escape was not an option; there were so many lights directed at them that the air was warm. Every one of the guards had one machine gun with a torch directed at them, another one around their shoulders and a gun on every hip, as well as knives attached to their heavy military-styled boots. Everyone was protected not only by a bullet-proof vest, but also by a large number of other protective items. They were connected through earpieces – everyone had one.

Steve realized that it was not just an abduction, but an abduction planned in detail. By someone who was rich enough to afford a private army – had he just heard a helicopter from above? – with trucks (there were several to the right and left of the 'alley') and a plane.

But why him? Tony, sure. Genius, scientist, super-rich, Iron Man. Steve was neither rich nor super intelligent. He didn't understand a word of Bruce's and Tony's conversations.

So, had he been right after all? Their abductors wanted Tony to make Iron Man suits for them, give them unlimited access to the intelligent Stark weapons, make him recreate the super soldier serum?

A sudden wind, and he shivered. The white shadow came nearer and nearer. It really was a plane, glossy white with a giant sign multiple times on it: a stylized bear holding a hammer and a sickle in red.

Steve swallowed.

A man in a white suit stood before the staircase to the plane. To his sides there were bodyguards that made the other guards look like little children. Every one was holding the leash of a dog. Steve had always liked dogs, even learned so much about them he could identify every single breed, but this ones were more like the Wargs from 'Lord Of The Rings'. Probably a Caucasian Shepheard/Rottweiler mixture.

One of the dogs lifted its head and Steve's stomach clenched. Those were the kinds of dog that just needed one word from their owner, and they would rip you to pieces.

He tried not staring at the dogs. Right now they were lying at the bodyguard's feet, short leashes attached to their collars. Short leashes that could easily be undone.

The man in the white suit extended his arms and smiled a fake smile, showing all of his teeth. They were glittering.

Diamonds in people's teeth?, Steve wondered. What a horrible place the world had become!

"My dear friends!", the white-suited man exclaimed. His voice did not held any accent, his face was free of any remarkable facial features. The black hair was slicked back.

"How wonderful to finally meet you face-to-face. The famous Tony Stark _and _Captain America himself! I am very pleased to make your acquaintace. You did a good job." The last bit was addressed to the men they had been guided by.

"But now, your services are not longer needed. We will take care of my guests. You are dismissed."

The guards stepped away, and the man strode towards Steve and Tony. Standing behind them, he gently placed a hand between their shoulderblades.

"Be my guests and step into my plane. I am taking you to meet a man that is very interested in you two."

The bodyguards with their dogs followed them walking up the stairs to the plane.

The inside was luxorious, even more than Tony's plane was. It looked like a small version of some ballroom from the nineteenth century. The whole thing was illuminated by a small crystal candelabra! The floor was expensive stone floor, probably carrara marble, there were big wing chairs – three, to be exact. They were arranged in the middle of the room, with a small table between them. Said table was loaded with glass bottles with liquor in them, glasses and a cigar case, all looking very expensive.

The white-suited man waved over to two of the wing chairs that were facing the other one.

"Why don't you have a seat? We will soon take off, and you should fasten your seatbelts before we depart."

Steve exchanged a glance with Tony and started to move towards the chairs.

To be honest, the moment the man in the white suit had greeted them, he had been more afraid than ever since he was in this time. Now, he was sure his legs would give way any second. He blamed his ankle.

They sat down simultanously. Just moments later, their... well, host, probaby, sat down opposite of them.

"Please fasten your seatbelts.", he said, still smiling.

They did as they were told while the plane started. Except from a slight humming, there was no noise.

"Why don't you take a cigar?", he asked, took one and offered them the case.

Steve felt his gaze on him, and he swallowed drily.

"I- uh, I don't... I don't smoke."

"Oh, why not? Please, take one. Just one!"

Hi stomach clenched in fear. This man was way too friendly. He couldn't deal with such faked friendliness. Not in a situation like this.

"I want you to try one. They are very good." The hint of a thread was hanging in the air between them.

Bucky had once made him smoke. They had been sixteen that time, and Bucky had shoplifted the cigarettes because he had wanted to try smoking. After one drag, Steve had had a really severe asthma attack. Bucky had also nearly coughed his lungs out, but whenever the topic cigarettes came up, he would again apologize over and over for making Steve smoke. He hadn't tried it with the 'new' body, but he was fairly certain he was asthma-free. Still, he didn't want to take a cigar.

It was Tony who moved first and took a cigar.

"Cuba, huh?", he asked, grinning. "Expensive as hell, but worth it, I think."

"Looks like you're the gourmet they say you are. Fire?"

Then: "What about you, Mr Rogers? Why don't you take one; they are very good!"

He gave in and reached for the cigar case, fingers trembling. Captain America's fingers don't tremble, he thought distantly. Then their host gave him fire, but before he would have to inhale the smoke, Steve put the cigar away from his mouth, pretending he had taken a drag.

Tony leaned back comfortably, blowing smoke.

"Seems like you know our names. I mean, sure, hard not to know them, if you think about all the media frenzy that's still going on for a bit. But, well, what's yours? I would like to adress you with your name."

Their host smiled. "It's Stefanovka. But, please, call me Wassili."

"Then that's Tony to you."

"Wonderful! Ah, I've longed for so long to finally get to know the famous Tony Stark. I must admit, I would never have dared to dream meeting you face-to-face."

Tony grinned and took another drag from the cigar.

"You'd be surprised how many people say something like this..."

He thought of Pepper, how they had met first. And immediately, he felt a pang of guilt. He was supposed to protect her. And right now, he couldn't. If something happend to her now, he would never be able to forgive himself.

**Okay, the translations:**

**Tank-who-opened-the-door said: You got rid of the handcuffs. They were too uncomfortable, right?**

**And Tony says: What do you want?!**

**I hope you enjoyed it, and if you have any ideas what our mysterious russians really want from Tony and Steve, why don't you leave a review? You can also leave one when you have no ideas. *GIANT MONSTER HINT***

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	9. Intermezzo: A Couple of Master Assassins

**Hello. This is the LMD of TheOwletQueen. She is currently frozen to an ice-owl and therefore cannot give you this chapter by herself.**

**Well, some small information about this one: **

**1. It's not relevant for the story(That's why I called it an intermezzo)**

**2. You will only understand this chapter if you have read Chapter 7 of my sort-of prequel 'After The Battle'. **

** Or if you read this: The Avengers were giving a press conference where Steve explained that they were fighting for Phil Coulson and that he had meant very much to them. After the conference, Natasha accuses Steve of using Coulson as a weapon without really caring for him. She runs away and hides in an air vent, where Clint finds her. He tries to convince her that the Captain didn't mean it, and together they cry over Phil's death. (He also remembers Budapest, where Natasha cried for him.) Clint let's it slip that he believes to be responsible for Phil's death and that makes Natasha angry. Long story short, she yells at him but also kisses him. After that, she leaves and tells him to come back when he is willing to deal with himself.**

**Apart from that, thank you for you continued support :) And I'm sorry I didn't update in a while, I was suffering from a lack of inspiration, but I have some ideas for the next real chapter that will continue the story. Also, did I probably make Steve too soft in the last chapter? Just wondering, maybe you can help me? **

"Hey."

She looked up from her work. Without asking, he sat down next to her and stared at his feet.

"What's wrong?", she asked.

He sighed. "Remember that time in the vents? At Stark's? After the press conference?"

She nodded slowly.

"See, I'm sorry."

"So you came to apologize?"

"Yeah."

"For that?"

"Yeah."

"You don't need to. I should. I yelled at you. I didn't make it easier for you. I made it even harder."

"You came after me. You saved me. That's enough of an apology."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

She glared at him. He grinned half-heartedly.

"That's why you came?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"Well, I'm bored - "

She elbowed him in the side.

"See, you said..." He took a deep breath. "said... Phil... and I... we... you said, we were your only friends, and... see, he's... you... I mean, 'twas the same with me. Phil 'n' you, you were my only friends, and... and now, there's just you."

He went silent.

"And?"

"You're the only person in my life. You... why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know."

"No."

"Well, in the vents..."

"I cried?"

"No. Well, yes, but no."

"I yelled at you?"

He shook his head. "You know what I mean."

She looked up and grimaced. "Probably."

"So?"

"So what? Whether I would do it again?"

He stared at his feet and didn't respond."

"Clint, you mean a freaking lot to me. You saved my life so often, and I never thanked you for that. And when it was you who needed help, I was blind. And slapped you.", she added as an afterthought.

"So?"

"So... why me? Why do you stick with me? You get along so well with the other Avengers, so... why me?"

" 'Cause you mean something to me that the Avengers don't. 'Cause I like you."

"Like me?"

" 'Love is for children, I owe him a debt.' Right?"

"I may have been wrong?"

"Were you?"

"Probably."

"Yes or no, Nat."

"I..." She hesitated. "I don't know."

"I know you do. In your heart."

"Now you sound like Loki."

"Nat - !"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Yeah. I still believe that you know it."

"You believe too easily, Barton!", she brushed him off, voice harsh.

"Nat."

"What?!"

"I want to know the truth."

"Even if I knew it, I couldn't tell."

"Fulfilled that debt yet?"

"No."

"Then do by telling me the truth."

"Clint, I can't."

"You can. You're strong."

"What if you don't like it?"

"No matter what happens, I'll always have your back, Nat."

She sighed and leaned against his shoulder. "Fury won't allow it."

"So it is what I think it is, right?"

"It is not _allowed_."

He put his arm around her.

"Just hypothetically... what if I felt the same?"

"I'd be glad, I think."

"Then why aren't you?"

"So you mean...?"

"Yep."

"We're assassins. We don't know something like that, like... _love_."

"But we're human, too."

"So you think we could put the assassin-mode aside and be human? Be... normal?"

"Yep."

She smiled.

**If you're lucky, you will have the next chapter maybe on sunday, but I'm afraid you won't be lucky. My life is totally full right now, because I'm on work experience :/**

**Nah, whatever, I'll work hard (more or less).**

**For those who have read so far, I hope you liked it and maybe leave a review? :)**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	10. The Assignment

**Soooo... has been a long time since you last heard anything from me. I am really sorry for that, but this chapter wouldn't work and seriously didn't want to be written, and then came the idea for this Dear Bucky-story and then I was sick, and... yeah.**

**I'm not happy with the way this chapter is now, and I may even change it later.**

**Also, Tony is being totally weird here, but that's part of the plan (Tony Stark ****_always _****has a plan). And the car he mentions: Yeah, sure he could buy one, they're really not that expensive, but I think they look cool, and Tony's of course only following his plan.**

**So. On with the story.**

They had travelled for approximately ten hours, it felt like an eternity. When they stepped out of the plane - with the bodyguards and Stefanovka behind them – they were at an airport near mountains. An airport that was deserted. There were big windows that looked out to a city some kilometres away. Snow was falling in the dark.

Outside, there was a black limousine waiting. It almost looked like one of Tony's. Maybe all of a sudden the billioniare would laugh at him and tell him it was all a joke.

It was cold. And not only normal cold, but snowy-cold. There were two reasons why Steve dreaded the cold, or maybe three. It took the strenght from him and made him want to curl up to a ball in some corner. One: Bucky had died in the cold. There had been snowfall there as well. Bucky had died because Steve had been too slow. Two: When he had made the final assault to the Red Skull's base, it had been in the cold. When he had jumped on the plane, the _Valkyrie_, there had been the cold, the icy wind. Only seconds after Peggy had kissed him. Three: The cold in the arctic had seperated him from his friends, from Peggy forever. If he had crashed the plane in a volcano, he would have died. Having put the plane in the ice, he was alive, seventy years later, all his friends gone.

He hated the cold. It made him remember, made him weak. Not even his apartment was allowed to be cold.

Steve realized he was probably going to die. He hadn't even went to see Peggy. A snowflake made its way to his nose and melted there.

Well, the limousine wasn't one of Tony's. Maybe it wasn't a joke after all. Maybe they were really going to die. Or, rather only he was going to die. There would always be a way out for Tony, always something that would save him, and was it only his genius.

A russian license plate. So, Russia it was now. Moscow, to be exact. Were there any other big cities in Russia at all? He didn't know. But he knew Russia and the USA weren't the best friends. And he, well, he was as much american as possible. So what did they want from him?

In the car, they sat again opposite Stefanovka. To his left and right there were the bodyguards.

Tony leaned back comfortably.

"So.", he said. "Wassili, you said there was a man interested in us. I presume he employed you and this little private army welcoming us to your plane is his, too. So, who is he?"

Welcoming?

Wassili smiled, looking similar to a crocodile. A rather large crocodile. Dangerous, too. "Curious, are you? Well, Tony, you will have to wait and see."

Tony sighed. "Oh, then at least tell me why we were invited by your boss!"

Invited?, Steve thought. What was wrong with Tony? He had been that friendly all the time, but these guys apparently were not friendly! They had abducted them, after all.

"Now, Tony! Please, use your head."

"There could be very many things I am wanted for. But you are not going to sell us as prostitutes, are you?"

Small talk, Steve wondered. Why, Tony?

"Well, no. We have no need of that. You are not in current need, are you?"

Tony laughed. "Well, no. I'd let you know if I am, though."

"And you, Mr Rogers? Oh, please, may I call you Steve?", Wassili asked. "Since there is very little known about your preferences, I have no idea what you would like concerning skin color, height, eye and hair color... But be assured that we have anything you might want."

Had that man just offered him prostitutes?!

Steve gulped. Not seriously.

"Steve, if I was you, I would seriously think about that offer. You won't get another one that good soon again.", Tony said.

Tony _as well_?!

"No, thanks.", he said, shocked.

"Oh, we of course have men as well.", Wassili added. "If it's that what you'd like."

Male prostitutes?! For a _man_? Steve felt like screaming.

"There are very many people who could not deny such an offer!", Tony went on.

"Not now, thank you very much.", he managed to say.

"Oh, we are there already!", Wassili exclaimed.

The car stopped and their host helped them out.

A deep-level garage, but there was an aquarium on one wall, and there were even more cars that looked even more expensive than Tonys.

The billioniare observed his surroundings.

"Now, this is not really... a Rolls Royce Phantom II Sport Saloon in grey?! Oh, I've always wanted that car!"

And on and on. This car, that car.

If there had ever been a moment Steve had been more annoyed with Stark - well, there hadn't.

It wasn't like Steve was so eager to meet their kidnapper to probably find out all that sick guy wanted to is seeing them suffer in the worst way. It was just that -

Steel doors hissed and slid open to reveal a group of people in protective suits, with gas masks, all in white, with the label that had also been on the plane showing clearly on their shoulders. They had with them what seemed to be large rifles attached to backpacks.

One of the bodyguards who now wore a gas mask presented Wassili a similar one, while his companion put on his own and also modified ones for the dogs.

They are going to poison us with gas., Steve thought, surprisingly rational.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Stefanovka has been going easy on you, but that was part of the plan. I hope you do not mistake me for a mafiosi boss that is stark raving mad, but for the scientist I am, even if mafiosi boss additionally, if you want to put it that way."

Headache.

"I have _let _Stefanovka be easy on you, so you don't try anything that might make you hurt yourselves or, even worse, kill yourselves."

Yeah, definetely a headache.

"I have seen the movies, I know what people expect, I know that you think you can outsmart me. Believe me, you can't. As you might have noticed, I made sure you had no chance. Remember the men who welcomed you with gas? That was so that you had no chance of reacting. So, since that is settled, I will give you your assignment, then leave you with Vitalij. You will tell him what you need and he will get it for you."

That situation was far too similar to Afghanistan. He tried opening his eyes but found that he was blindfolded. And tied to a chair. In handcuffs. Feet handcuffed as well, and a rope around his chest. Did he mention he could smell the metally and oily smell of a gun near him?

"Captain Rogers believed that I wanted to archieve world domination via the Iron Man suit, the Super Soldier Serum and the intelligent weapons Stark Industries is building. While back then, Mr Stark, you called him a conspiracy theorist, you may now be assured that he has been right."

Tony's life just got a whole lot worse. He immediately realized what this meant: forced to work for an enemy again, possibly while being tortured every once in a while. But, even worse, he would never see daylight again. Would probably see on a video feed how this madman destroyed New York with an army of Iron Mans and Super Soldiers. Destroyed his tower, destroyed his cars. Then Malibu, too.

And Pepper.

A lump started growing in his throat. Pepper. He didn't want to see her suffer, die, cry, whatever. He couldn't. Pepper.

"Your every movement will be watched, and you will be checked regularily. Tell Vitalij what you need in order to be comfortable and in order to work properly."

Pepper. She was like the sunshine, beautiful and strong and lots of other good stuff. He liked the sun. That was why he had bought the house in Malibu.

Maybe he was becoming sentimental, but Pepper was his only person, his only family, his only friend next to Rhodey – and, yeah, Bruce was nice, but nobody was like Pepper. Not even Happy...

Gloved fingers undid his blindfold, his handcuffs were opened, the rope around his chest was removed, his feet were freed.

Tony took in his surroundings. The room was big, white and totally boring. Two chairs – Captain Spangles was on the other chair – one big door, lights on the ceiling. Spangly had two men at his sides, both armed, but not that tall. Still freaking strong probably.

Another two men were at Tony's sides, and a fifth was standing in front of him.

"Mr Stark, you and Captain Rogers are to request whatever you need to have a comfortable life and to fulfill my employer's request.", man number five/probably Vitalij said.

Tony didn't like how he spoke. That man was stuck-up. Well, two could play that game.

"I want a bed at least six square metres big, with view on a big TV, I want a minibar next to my bed, as well as a laptop. And by laptop I mean something up-to-date, not some stone aged shit. Also, my bathroom is to be huge, and I'd like some suits that look like ones I'd wear..."

He went on and on, the crazy demands calming him a bit.

"Very well.", Vitalij said after all. His face had darkened more and more while listening to Tony. "You will get what you demand for, but don't ever forget: we are watching you and we want you to work."

He left, and with him the four bodyguards. Tony and Steve were alone.

"What a badass; I feel threatened.", Tony deadpanned. He did not get any answer from the Captain, though.

**I don't like this chapter. I seriously don't.**

**Nah, whatever. Next will be better, I promise!**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	11. The Security Council

**Hey again! Sooo... this chapter is very important for the story, I think, because one of my favourite characters gets a bit of attention here, and also you get to meet the security council, and of course you will - but I can't tell you that. Heh.**

**This is a bit of a Fury-character-study for me as well.**

Fury marched through the corridor. There were doors to the left and windows to the right, but he went through none of those doors. Every door was protected by two soldiers in their laughable suits that didn't offer the least protection.

Had he looked out of the windows, he would have seen the beautiful park shining green in the sunlight. For late summer or the beginning of autumn, the weather sure was exceptionally good.

But he didn't look out of the windows. Director Fury was not a sentimental man, he was a man on a mission. His jaw was set, and, even if he probably didn't even noticed it, he had scared the men that had welcomed him at the airport with his icy silence. The woman accompanying him, Virginia Potts, Co-CEO of Stark Industries, had tried small talk, but, getting no answers from the men or Fury, she had silenced.

Now, she was three steps behind him, together with the five agents that had come with the Director as well. She was struggling to keep up with his pace.

Without looking back, he knew that she was clutching the files in her arm tightly. Her high heels were loud in the empty corridor, and the agents, as well as Fury in his heavy combat boots, were making very little noise.

Any unknowing witness would feel like he was breaking every law in the United States by simply standing in Fury's way. The Director's coat was flowing behind him, his look was determined and he was leaning slightly forward, hands fisted. He was intimidating, and that was his intention.

The two soldiers guarding the two-winged door at the end of the corridor had jumped to attention the second they had been aware of Fury's presence. The door was opened, and the Director marched in. It was a conference room, more modern than the rest of the building. In the middle was a large table, white, with steel legs. Not exactly Fury's style. Around the table where chairs, four already occupied. The three men and one woman looked lost in the big room.

The agents positioned themselves at strategic points. The whole building was under complete observation, and they were all connected to Fury.

"Is this really necessary, director?", the woman spoke up.

Ignoring the question, he sat down at the far end of the table. He could see anyone who walked through the door. Next to him, the woman that had come with him took a chair.

He looked around. There were eight people still missing.

"Where is the president?", he asked.

"He has been delayed.", came the answer from a short, wiry man with a grey buzz cut. Everything about him screamed that he was from the army. He was new in the council, probably replacing Goodwell who had passed away shortly after the Manhattan incident. Rumor said Goodwell had been poisioned. The man in his place now was Everglades. A very good soldier in Fury's opinion. A man he could work with. A man who would see what the rest of the council never saw. General Bradley Demian Everglades, if he wasn't mistaken.

Everglades pronouced the 'delayed' as if it had been something of minor importance. It probably was, the president was known to not see threats were they were.

"He is in a meeting about green energy with the british Prime Minister.", Weaving said. He was the youngest of the men, being two years younger than Fury. Weaving was one of those idiots who followed the president blindly. His father had known the president since they had grown up together, and that was the only reason for Weaving sitting here now and earning a generous amount of money each year for sitting there, doing nothing and being stupid.

The woman was originally from the Netherlands. She had her own, very strong will and often enough she was against the president and would usually get him to support her opinion, weren't it for Fury.

Her name was Bonnie Willow.

The other two men, Towlers and Sander, were a bit like Weaving, even if not that stupid. But they were bureaucrats of the worst kind. Fury didn't like either one of them.

To get what he wanted, he would have to count on Everglades.

They waited in silence for the president.

About half an hour later, the doors opened to reveal the president and seven of his ministers or whatever they were.

"Ah, Director Fury.", the president nodded. "Glad to see you were able to arrive in time."

"I was five minutes to early and waited exactly thirty-two minutes.", he answered.

"I am sorry, but I was hold up."

"A meeting with the Prime Minister from England, I heard. About green energy."

"That is true."

"I am sorry, Mr President, but this is a meeting about national security, if I am not mistaken." Fury eyed the president reproachful.

"Gentlemen!", Bonnie Willow reminded them. "Could we begin?"

They all sat down.

"Director Fury, you are here because of the abduction of two men named - " Willow glanced down on her files to appear to be searching for the names. In his head, Fury allowed himself to get unprofessional and use some of the words he heard SHIELD agents using, for that woman.

"Because of the abduction of Captain Steven Grant Rogers, also known as Captain America, and Mr Anthony Edward Stark, also known as Iron Man.", Fury cut in.

"Thank you, Director.", Willow said with the hint of a fake thankful smile. Her whole appearance screamed sarcasm.

"What news do you have for us, Director?", the president asked.

And Fury started explaining.

Five hours later, he had ignored more than twenty more or less subtle hints for breaks. He had explained over and over again that, yes, Rogers and Stark were still alive – he had to delve deep into psychology and explain and explain. He had explained why the two of them were so important. He had explained what Miss Potts had started when she had recruited the SHIELD agents to research the matter on her own. Miss Potts had explained the research, had explained what they had found so far. They had to call on a lawyer to make sure she hadn't broken any laws with her research.

And then, all of a sudden, the president had wanted her to leave, because apparently, this meeting was going too deep into national security, and an ordinary citizen could not be present during this. Also the agents had to go outside.

So, Fury had went on on his own. There had been PowerPoint-Presentations, calculations, specialists from SHIELD had been there.

And finally, when it was six hours since they had started the meeting, they accepted Fury's request for a SHIELD-led research.

"Director, if we are going to approve this, we have to make sure you have the right men doing it.", Everglades said. The man had been on Fury's side during the whole meeting. And Fury had decided weren't Everglades a politician by sitting in this council, he would have to buy him a drink at least.

"I do have the men.", he answered.

"And what about the man who will supervise the project?", Willow asked. "This - " Again she consulted her files. "This Mr Birmingham the president spoke about earlier, he seems to be a very good man, and - "

"Excuse me, Mrs Willow. I think I do have the best man to do this.", Fury cut in, annoyed.

"The best?", the president echoed.

"The very best.", the Director answered, looking the other man straight in the eye.

"Excuse me, but I am new. Which man do you mean?", Everglades asked.

Fury searched through his files and finally held one up. "This man.", he said and slid the profile over to Everglades. It was one single paper and didn't contain much: a photograph of the man, the name, the missions he had been at. Every successful mission was marked with a big X. Only three missions did not have an X. The page had printing not only on the front, but also on the back. There were the seventy-eight major mission together with a very brief descripition written, as well as the names of the more than twohundred smaller ones. At the end of the file there was a remark written by hand: _For information on the 56 unlisted activities, please consult Director Fury._

Everglades nodded. "I have read this man's file. He has been working for SHIELD for more than fifteen years now, hasn't he? Those fifty-six unlisted activities are labelled Top Secret, right? I thought he had retired?"

"During his last mission he was injured so badly that I did not dare to bring him back on duty yet. He is currently killing time in California, but I wanted to fly him back to New York City, since he is not very happy with having nothing to do except the occasional paperwork-consultancy.", Fury explained. "When he was well enough to have visitors, I offered him the chance to retire, since he has been working faithfully for SHIELD for years. He said the day he left SHIELD, he would either be having dementia or it would be in a coffin."

The profile had been passed to the president who looked at it for a very long time. Finally, he put the paper down and shook his head.

"Director, this is about national security. I cannot let a man I have never seen before deal with this. He may be your very best agent, but I want to speak with him."

"I expected that. Therefore, I took the liberty to bring him here, he is waiting outside."

"Then bring him in.", Willow said.

Fury got up and opened one half of the door. He stepped outside and saw that his man had been brought a comfortable chair. He was facing the park outside, with sun on his face.

"Agent.", Fury said, catching his attention.

The man turned around.

"Director Fury.", he answered.

"The council wants to speak with you.", Fury said.

The man slowly got up, obviously filled with pain. The Director offered him an arm which he gladly took. He straightened his tie and struggled for a more straight walk.

They slowly went back inside, and Fury suddenly smelled how stale the air had become in the meeting room. It was dark, since they had the curtains closed.

Behind him, the door was shut. Every eye from the council was now on the agent, who had to fight pain in his back and moved even slower.

Finally, they had reached the end of the table, and Fury helped his man sit down to his right. And for the first time in this meeting, he reached for the coffe and poured a cup which he offered the agent. The man gladly accepted.

He knew he was being eyed and still took his time to take a sip of coffee. It was still hot and the quality was way better than at SHIELD.

The president leaned towards one of his ministers. "He can barely walk and Fury wants to have him supervising a mission of that importance?", he murmured.

"I heard that, and yes, he is the only man I would want in this place.", Fury said sharply. "I would like to remind you that this is not a field mission."

Willow looked up from the file that had now passed to her and stared at the agent. "I want to see a medical record."

Fury, prepared for everything, gave her one. She read through it, and made a small noise every now and then. After a while, she let the paper fall and leaned back.

"Director, this is ridiculous.", she said. "You cannot let a man who is on that many pain killers and other drugs deal with national security. I can't and I won't allow this."

Fury went on to verbally abuse her in his head. "And I will not let you put Birmingham as a supervisor for _my _team."

"_Your _team?", she shot back. "SHIELD is financed by the government."

"And we have done a good job so far. We have had dealings of national security before and in the end you always agreed with my actions. And now, we are dealing with the biggest breach in national security, the biggest danger to national security since the founding of SHIELD, and you want to have an bureaucratic, dim-witted, big-headed, incompetent _idiot _dealing with it while you could have the very best of the best in the entire world!", Fury jumped to his feet, no longer able to contain himself.

This led to almost everyone in the council jumping to their feet and a round of shouting at each other ensued.

Fury was more angry than he had ever been in his whole life. And he told this everybody who did and didn't want to listen. They were so far as insulting each other, when the agent, who had not said a word yet and remained in his chair to drink his coffee, got up, slowly, painfully. He held up both hands and tried to say something. Everglades was the first to notice, and, one after one, the men calmed down.

"Gentlemen, lady", the agent nodded towards Willow. "Please sit back down and let me say something as well."

Slowly, the other men sat down, breathing heavily.

"Thank you.", the agent said. "I can understand Mrs Willow very well. I do take very many medicaments at the moment, and these might prevent me from making the right decisions."

Fury opened his mouth to say something.

"Please, Nick, let me speak. However, I have been working on very many abductions already, and I am also very acquainted with the superhero group known as the 'Avengers'. Since this is about the Avengers as well, you might appreciate it if I would be on the project. Also, I did not come here unprepared. I have read everyting SHIELD gathered about this project. Still, I can clearly see why you would not want me as a supervisor. Therefore, I present you an alternative: I would be a consultant, and for the job of a supervisor I have already found a person that would be more than perfect."

Fury decided to trust his agent fully. He saw Everglades nodding slightly, as well as some of the ministers. The president and Willow didn't seem to be too averse to this plan.

"Who would this person be?", Everglades asked.

Fury had wondered this as well. The agent knew everybody at SHIELD, and he surely was going to take one of them. Hill? Probably not. She was not as experienced. But if that was his agent's choice... it would be a good one. Fury would be able to control everything, and Willow would pick any female candidate. She was extremely sexist. So... what if the agent picked Romanov? She would definitely be a strange choice, but Fury had to admit it would be a good one.

The agent handed him a flash drive. "Director, if you would be so kind."

When Fury had been appointed director of SHIELD, he had only been acquainted with the technology SHIELD used. His SHIELD-given apartment had the same technology. On his first security council meeting, he had been confronted with the stone-aged technology the rest of the world used. But, luckily, that had been many years ago, and now he knew how to operate the latest MacBook Air that was attached to a projector. Therefore, he did not make a fool of himself as he inserted the flash drive. When connected, a file was projected to the big screen.

"Due to her qualification as well as the fact that she has already dealt with these people many times, I think that Agent Romanov would be the very best choice.", the agent said.

Silently, Fury cheered, something he hadn't done since he had been in High School and his football team had won.

Willow furrowed her brow for no more than three seconds. "Yes.", she said. "I think Agent Romanov really is the best choice here."

Everglades nodded."Yeah, good idea."

Fury gave his thumbs-up as well, and then every gaze lingered on the president.

"Well", the man said, sighing. "If that is the will of the council, we should follow it."

Just don't get re-elected next time., Fury thought.

"I want a weekly update of what is happening.", the president added. "And a personal talk with Agent Romanov... although, no, that is not necessary and not even possible. I am flying to Italy tomorrow."

He started stacking his files. Finally, he got up. "Gentlemen, lady: It has been a pleasure."

And with these words, he was out of the doors, his ministers, Weaving, Towlers and Sander following. Fury was left with Everglades and Willow.

The woman glanced at her watch. "Yes, I have to go as well. I hope this affair ends without further damage."

And she was gone.

"Well", Everglades nodded. "That was quite a performace, Director."

"It was necessary.", Fury said.

"Most definitely, yes."

"So, General Everglades... this looks like you are not the regular person attending meetings like these."

"What do you mean by that, Director?"

"I mean that you, quite different from most officials I dealt with, are really interested in the state and not only your own profit. Am I right?"

"You may not remember me, Nick, but we went to High School together. We were sitting next to each other in most classes, we were in the same Football team."

Fury frowned. "Are you telling me you are Brad Sorning? Captain of the school's best Football team?"

"I am. I simply married."

Fury stared at him in surprise.

The short silence was interrupted by Everglades: "Nick, I would like to do more than just reading your weekly reports on the mission."

"You want in?", Fury asked.

"Yes. If Agent Romanov allows it."

Fury nodded slowly. "She will."

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	12. Getting Started

**Hmm... what can I say? My muse who went on vacation for some time is finally back and she's totally relaxed and will stay for some time.**

**Also, I like Thor.**

Jane was positive she was going mad. When Thor had returned, the first thing Director Fury had done was dragging all of this weird team back to New York, including Thor. She and Darcy were to finish some of the minor experiments that took a _week _(well, it had been three days, but that didn't matter)! Then, finally in New York, she didn't see Thor for days, because SHIELD was doing experiments with him or whatever. One agent whom Jane only knew as Beth had told her that it was Thor's pure good-natured-ness that was the problem. (If that was even a word.) Apparently, Thor couldn't say no when they asked him for assistance.

Then, the incident with Stark and Rogers had happened. Since Jane had surprised Stark working on her computer without permission and due to his behavior towards everyone in the following days, she hated the man's guts. Rogers was just a pretty face who came over and was somehow involved in this whole ridiculous thing. Same thing involved a round of other weird people, and none of those was allowed to tell her anything except from that there had been a threat to Manhattan, and that Thor was a hero, and he had a team. Apart from that, not a word! She had asked everybody. Then, she was invited to stay at Stark Tower, and Thor was living there, too – even if she never saw him, because SHIELD agents were busy busying him.

And lovely director Fury simply changed her contract so that now she had to work on this weird abduction thing for SHIELD.

She _had _told him she didn't want this, but: "I'm sorry, Miss Foster, but now you don't have a chance to get out of this. You are now as much an agent as the others."

That was why she was now in a cab with Darcy which would bring them to the port, where the Helicarrier was still stationed because they were not done with the repairs yet. Helicarrier! Seriously, who invented a flying monster surfboard aircraft carrier three times bigger than normal ones to have a secret agency float around.

And Darcy had one of these "super amazing awesome genius" Stark phones and was listening to music _all the time._ And this game, that website, one application, another cool function... She did not talk a single word with Jane anymore! That is, unless she could say something about her glorious phone.

So especially today – she was in a bad mood anyways – Jane had decided to be full of self pity and Stark-centred anger.

Fury had flown to Washington DC to meet the president and establish a legal, SHIELD-controlled research group. That had been three days ago.

This morning – Darcy had forced her to accompany her to this _particular _café to have breakfast, because some VIP hat once walked by or mentioned it in some speech or whatever – Fury had send a mail to summon them all – so everybody who knew about project "Saving an idiot the whole world hates and some model-guy who was weird and apparently a time-traveller or whatever Darcy said" (Oh, yes, Jane was in a very bad mood.) – to a meeting, 10 a.m., in the Helicarrier main meeting room. So, _unfortunately _Darcy and Jane had to stop their breakfast and take a cab to the port.

The meeting room was already filled with mostly agents, and there in a corner was Thor with... oh, well, Doctor Banner and those two agents and director Fury. Why did Thor have to be so damn nice and always help these people?

Sure, Bruce was a nice guy, a very intelligent and decent person, even if the agents always dropped lines about his "condition" when he couldn't hear them. But seriously, Bruce was nice. And whatever condition he had – it couldn't be something bad because he was normal. Really, he was the most normal person on this floating monster surfboard!

Totally different from the two agents. A woman – the only woman on the team – and a man, best friends or lovers or friends with benefits or whatever, but _weird_! They didn't talk all english, but also not a different language – not entirely. And they appeared out of nothing, really. The man, an archer Jane had seen around the New Mexico station a few times, he never said a word, and she had the strong feeling he was an analphabetic ninja.

The woman was the impersonation of the devil. She walked on heels that high, she could reach the clouds. And she managed! Also, that woman, hair the color of blood, could, just like her partner, have extremely deadly weapons appear from nowhere. Basically, _everything _she touched could become a weapon in her hands. Jane had once seen that woman attack a steak that was a bit tougher, and she had been mortally afraid. And her gaze was so ice-cold...

And director Fury! That guy was scary! He was, as Darcy had so eloquently put it, "Halloween 24/7... but the kind of Halloween that would have Chuck Norris hide under his blanket." Yeah, sure, he might make the right decisions, but that _did not _allow him to scare people with that super-creepy eye patch and a black coat and everything else black all the time and no smiling and always looking serious...

The director began the meeting five minutes delayed. He briefly summarized what had happened in the security meeting, told that he had wanted a certain agent whose name he didn't tell in charge, but that they had appointed Agent Romanov, and that now she would say something.

Jane had never made the effort to learn most of the SHIELD-agents names, and she didn't know the names of the two agents in the Avengers team either. Those two she called 'Robin Hood' and 'Scary Redhead'.

Therefore she was rather surprised as 'Scary Redhead' stepped forward, steps steady, on-

"Those are _The Heels_.", Darcy cut in. "Remember? Those I showed you three days ago when we went shopping? Those where I said I would be feeling like the most awesome person in human history if I could walk on them. They are so damn high! How is it comfortable walking in them or even humanly possible?" The younger woman looked thoroughly amazed.

Jane, more pissed at Darcy than ever, snapped: "Well, I think you could learn it, but _those _would certainly not look good on you. Better wear something you can walk on."

Slowly, the woman next to her turned her head. "Whoa, you're really bitchy. What, just because your divine boyfriend is working? It's not like you have a monopoly on him. Jane, he is helping his friends!"

After that, Jane chose to ignore Darcy even more.

Fury passed the microphone to Romanov who positioned herself in front of the gathering.

"Okay.", she said. "I'll make this short. I have prepared teamgroups who will work on one subject each. We will from now on hold a weekly meeting, same time as this. In case there is something important, I will call for a meeting instantly, and you will all come, regardless of the time, the date or whatever there is going on. And, umm..."

She silenced, looking less self-confident. "I know that I might be a strange choice for an operation like this. I have never led a team myself... except once... and there I had SHIELDs very best agent backing me up. But I will have some help from SHIELD, so I think it will work just fine."

Romanov went on explaining how she wanted the project organized and then talked about the groups she had made. Jane was not quite sure wheter she liked the redhead. The woman was not only weird and scary, but also very direct and commanding, no time for jokes, wearing a serious face all the time. Surely when Romanov was leading the research, she would have either Jane or Thor always occupied. Or both.

It wasn't that Jane was being cruel, she told herself. Being in the hands of kidnappers was undoubtedly not nice for both Stark and Rogers, but seriously! If anything they said about them was true (Stark being a genius and Rogers being superstrong because of 'the serum'), they would have freed themselves in no time.

While Romanov was talking, Jane looked over the people around her. She caught sight of Thor's pretty blonde hair, his neck and his shoulders. He was wearing a plain white shirt and, as she had seen before, light blue jeans. Everything was just tight enough that _that _body was shown in all ist glory. Well, if that didn't lighten up her mood...

Jane bit the side of her cheeks to prevent herself from grinning. When Thor had walked out of the bathroom bare-chested back when they had first met... uh-oh. That was still fuel for her wet dreams, even one year later. It was just such a pity she hadn't looked closer.

"What?", Darcy hissed.

When Jane looked at her questioningly, the younger woman repeated: "What are you laughing about?"

"I'm not laughing."

"And you're sitting in a highly official meeting, staring at a certain person and of course not having any dirty thoughts about your divine boyfriend?", Darcy whispered back, grinning.

Boyfriend? Was Thor really her boyfriend? They had shared less than a dozen quick kisses, some 'Hi's in passing... and shameless staring from Jane.

So she replied: "He's not my boyfriend."

He surely wasn't, since he was a god and a prince and a hero... he surely was not casting hungry glances her way like she did. He probably had some kind of a goddess-girlfriend in Asgard.

Darcy eyed her, stunned.

"Hello?!", she finally asked. "Don't you have eyes in your head? Don't you see how he is staring at you? He is practically _drooling _when he sees you!"

"Darcy, he is a _god_! He looks like a model, he is not only a god-prince but also a hero, he probably has every female in Asgard lusting after him!"

"Yeah, but does that mean he is, too?"

When Jane did not reply, Darcy urged further: "After the meeting, I'll distract everybody that is within a ten metres radius of your boyfriend and you go pull him in a closet and kiss him stupid!"

"Darcyyyyyyy...", Jane groaned. "I can't do that-!"

"Yes you can!"

"No, I can't, because that would be disrespectful and-"

"But you would like to, right?", Darcy grinned.

"Yes, probably, but it's not - Darcy! Stop grinning! – and also, I can't and-"

"You are simply _going to_! Seduce him a little and he will be all yours. No norse goddess will _ever _have his eyes on her _again_!"

Jane pretended to be listening to Romanov.

"And don't you dare to say 'Hi' and leave the rest to him, smiling like an idiot, Jane Foster!"

"Darcy! Shut up, I'm in an important meeting-"

" –which you aren't the least interested in-"

" –and this is important for my career and all –"

" -and Stark's smart, he and Rogers will escape on their own-"

" –you're being cruel-"

"- no, I'm not-"

" –and this is important-"

" –not as important as a certain god-"

" –and you're distracting me!", Jane finished.

"Well..." Darcy had this mischievous smile on her lips. She bowed to Jane's ear and whispered in her best seductive voice – which was indeed good: "Wouldn't it be more fun if _he _was distracting you?"

Jane felt how her face went red.

"Images in your head?", Darcy asked.

"No.", Jane lied.

Darcy left her alone after that, but her eyes were still sparkling.

"Okay everybody, then get started!", Romanov finished.

Darcy elbowed Jane and nodded towards Thor who had gotten up and – sweet mother of Jesus, _that ass_!

"Stop drooling!", the younger woman chimed and elbowed her again.

Luckily, Fury seemed to be the only one wanting to steal Thor's time, so Darcy rushed up to the director while Jane was still fumbling with her purse.

"Director, director!", she called and Fury looked instantly annoyed.

"What is it, Miss Lewis? Cut it short, I have work to do!"

"Like, what kind of work?", she inquired.

"Like talking with Thor and Agent Romanov.", he replied.

"With both of them at the same time?"

The meeting room was being deserted rapidly.

"I simply intended to tell Thor to take some time off. I hope you don't have a problem with that, Miss Lewis.", the director said, slightly threatening.

Thor seemed a bit lost in the meeting room. Was he waiting for them to leave to pin Jane against a wall and kiss her delirious? Hopefully he was. A pissed Jane was horrible.

"I hope you don't plan on stealing Miss Foster's time. I believe she would like to be alone with Thor for a while. Now, if you would please excuse me, I have a meeting."

Darcy decided the director was certainly not a bad guy but rather a nice person, who, even if weird, was worth support. She followed him out of the room, winking at Jane suggestively.

Jane decided she would rip Darcy to pieces. How could her best friend possibly leave her in this embarrassing situation?

She swallowed thickly and turned around, not yet ready to face Thor but she wouldn't get any readier if she waited a hundred years.

And suddenly, she was facing a wall of white fabric streched over this heavenly, godly chest that belonged to Thor. Looking up, she met his gaze, saw the smile tugging at his lips. And she melted.

Why was he looking so good, why was he smelling so good, and why, by all gods, did he have to make her grin like an idiot and have her at a loss for words and have butterflies in her stomach batteling even more butterflies and – _ooooh_...

He kissed her. Gently and _oh-so-good_ and just wow. She leaned into the touch and pressed her hands against his shoulders, holding the material of his shirt. His arms tightened around her waist and those butterflies in her stomach started filling her whole body. Her knees went weak and only he was holding her upright.

When they broke apart, Jane's hands had somehow found their way into his hair. His smile was dazzeling. But then he grew serious again.

"I am sorry.", he said softly. "I should not have let them take my time whilst I promised to return for you, and you in the first place."

Jane shook her head. She wasn't angry anymore. She wasn't even having a bad day anymore. In fact, she was having a great day.

"What do you think about leaving SHIELD for a while and doing something outside? I have the feeling you haven't seen the sky for days, much less breathed fresh air."

He chuckled. "They would not dare imprisioning me here. But I would love to explore the city of New York with you."

She smiled back and kissed him lightly.

"Well, then come on!"

**I felt like this story could use a bit more romance, so that's why the stuff above happened. So please tell me how much I screwed up :)**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***

**Seriously, I just want to cuddle Thor right now. :3**


	13. Intermezzo 2 : The Counsellor

**Next Intermezzo, and I only made it an Intermezzo because it was so short.**

**Also, I'm sorry for not updating in, like, three weeks or so (was it that long). But there was stuff to do, and then I was stuck on holiday in the only hole in the whole of Germany where there was neither internet access nor mobile reception. Yeah. I had fun. -.- **

**But whatever. Have fun reading :)**

Fury was sitting at his desk and signing a permission for vacation for Hill. She was going to visit her aunt somewhere in Europe and she had certainly earned some time off. Also, if she continued staring at Barton's backside, she would be severely wounded by Romanov in a few days. Fury did not have any use of injured agents. And Hill was one of his best.

But speaking of Romanov, where was she? She was supposed to be here.

A short knock on the door and his best female field agent walked in.

"You called for me, sir?"

"Yes. Sit down."

Romanov sat and looked at him. He had no idea of what was going on in her head. Although having been a russian hit woman/spy/assassin, she had integrated herself better into the SHIELD environment than her partner Barton. Barton had been horrible. While he was undoubtedly an amazing sniper, his personality was hard to deal with. Barton had gone through seven different handlers within twelve missions. The complaints from the handlers had been similar: Barton didn't obey orders, he chose his positions himself and didn't take the ones he was supposed to, claiming that his positions were superior, he was constantly talking over the comm., he was usually late for meetings, sometimes he vanished for days, et cetera.

Fury had finally decided to give Barton one last chance. Two hours after his talk with the archer, he had had Coulson come to his office. He had a small, even boring mission where Barton would be handled by Coulson. Eyes on target, shoot, over. Normally, he wouldn't dream of assigning Coulson or Barton with a mission like this, but it was supposed to be a test. For both of them.

After the mission: not a single complaint from Coulson and a smoother shot from Barton than ever.

They had been a dreamteam. As Coulson/Barton (or Coulston, as they were called), every mission was a success.

When Coulson had been on vacation for some time, or rather on sick leave due to a particularily nasty fever, Barton had been assigned another handler. And the complaints had started again.

And then came Romanov. She instantly made the Coulston relationship to a Black Coulston (that was what the junior agents called them, but Fury had also heard people call them the 'deadly triangle'.)

But Romanov was able to work with other handlers. Barton – no way.

And Barton was the one who had completely broken down as Fury told the Avengers Coulson was dead.

Guilt was not a feeling the director experienced often, but Barton... he felt guilty for his best agent hating himself. Fury knew that Barton was feeling horribly guilty for letting Loki turn him, for killing the agents. He knew the archer believed it was his fault Coulson died and –

"Director?", Romanov asked, frowning.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Agent Romanov." Fury took a deep breath and focused on his next task. This was not going to be easy.

"You are not experienced in leading as big a team as the research team now."

She nodded.

"Therefore I appointed a counsellor who will help you."

She didn't look too happy. The Black Widow did not like to take advice.

"And", he added, voice raised. "You are in no way allowed to tell any other person about this counsellor. He will remain anonymous on your phone and when you talk about him or phone him, you will not say his name. This will go on until I deem it not necessary anymore."

"Who is he?", she asked.

"Before I will tell you, you will have to sign this form where you promise to keep your counsellor's identity a secret."

Romanov raised her eyebrows. "Who is he?", she asked again. "Is he a defect, a political criminal?"

Fury pushed the form forward and put a pencil on the top, giving her the 'no questions'-look.

She obeyed, scribbled her name down on the paper and gave it back.

"So?", she asked.

"If you would follow me.", he said. It was not a question.

Fury stood up. This would be difficult, he knew.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He took her down all the way to the medical bay.

The counsellor was, the director knew, sitting in one of the small rooms on a comfortable chair to favor his back.

He was reading a book. _Dracula _by Bram Stoker. An unusual choice for a SHIELD agent. Fury's lips curved into an involuntary smile.

They stepped through the door, Romanov directly behind him, into the room. Its inhabitant closed the book and turned the chair around.

Fury heard Romanov's sharp gasp. Shortly, he wondered what would happen if Barton ever found out that he had told Romanov but not him. The archer would undoubtedly kill him.

"It's not possible!", she hissed. "You're dead, you-"

The man stood up and smiled.

"I never died.", said Phil Coulson.

**Yep. I love this chapter... **

**Because I mean, seriously. They could not let Phil die! That was inhuman. So, I fixed it.**

**Hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.**

***~This is the edited version of the story. It contains minor changes but does not change the general happenings.~***


	14. Please arrange yourselves in your prison

**I have actually no idea what I should write here...**

**...**

Tony hadn't talked with Steve since they had been left alone. Some time ago, men had come to arrange the rooms. They had been fast, they had been efficient and they hadn't said a word.

Then, dinner was 'served'. Tony had pointedly ignored the Captain's few tries to start a conversation and had eaten dinner on the opposite side of the room. Along with the food there had been a notepad and a biro with the request to write down what he needed for his work. Well, it was not really a request. Tony was no fool: he knew that if he did not obey their abductors, he would easily be forced to work. And not too gently.

He had finished dinner even if he could barely swallow. He hadn't been that scared in Afghanistan, had he? The afghans had been less organized, less intelligent, less modern, but these people, the russians...

Tony bit his lip until he could taste blood. He didn't feel like working, he felt rather like curling into a ball and forgetting the world around him.

Pepper would want him to be strong, he knew. And, god, _Pepper _would be strong. And he – Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, owner of Stark International Industries, _Iron Man_, whom they have called a hero – he was goddamn _Tony Stark_! Who could get out of here if not he? His IQ was rivaling Einstein's, they said, and in reality it was even higher, he had built an AI at the age of twenty! He could invent new smart missiles when he was drunk out of his mind, he could build a robot in his sleep! He was Tony Stark!

He could simply rewrite the internet and contact JARVIS. No thtat he had ever tried that, but he could write a virtual computer hidden inside the regular internet and then he could simply steal another person's IP for the 'real' surfing while the actual computer would visit porn sites (he would have to write some kind of a program that would randomly watch porn). The only thing Tony had to ensure further was that nobody could see the screen from the security cameras and also that the virtual computer was password-protected and that the messages for JARVIS would be ultimately coded – he could use the secret code the Iron Man-system was written with... or caesar's code translated into binary code translated into the secret Iron Man-code...

Tony felt how he was warming up.

He could probably even establish a secret e-mail conversation with SHIELD to get them out of here – he could... he would have the entire internet as his weapon! He could hack into their kidnappers network to free them, directly after having built another Iron Man suit!

Tony looked up and caught sight of Rogers. The Captain sat with his back against the wall, knees pulled up and eyes closed. His jaw was still red and swollen from the blow that had knocked him out. Well, the super soldier serum had certainly not been of much use. They had captured Rogers like a drunk rabbit with only one leg. That must be super embarrassing for the oh-so-great Captain.

But still. Knocking Captain America out was not something done easily. Firstly, the guy had reflexes better than a cat's. So how the hell did this guy even get hit? Secondly, Rogers was freaking strong. Tony had seen him take out the aliens as if they were made out of cardboard. So, why did the Captain not react?

Something has to be found out, Tony decided.

"Hey, Capsicle!", he called across the room.

"What?", the other man inquired, eyes still closed.

"You're Captain America. You're probably the strongest man on earth. So tell me again how these guys could take you out with one single blow." He grinned, annoying Rogers being one of his favourite past times.

"I'm not Captain America.", the blonde replied quietly.

"Sure aren't, Cap." Tony still waited for an answer. When none came, he prodded further: "So... probably they bribed you?"

He saw Roger's jaw clench and how the blonde frowned.

"What, won't you talk to me anymore? Too good for me, are you?"

"Stop it." The Captain suddenly sounded fragile and small and young... His silent begging for the questions stopping lit a spark in Tony's heart. It became a flame full of burning hatred for the Captain. How did the blonde dare to speak like that, like he was a child having a bad dream, like he deserved people being nice to him, like he was something special, like – Tony felt like hitting the blonde in the face repeatedly. He felt his headache coming back. Who did Rogers _think _he was? People had spent their entire _lives _for him, there had been people _dying _because of him! How did Rogers have the guts to ask for _more_? _He _was the hero, the super-human, the soldier. _He _should have gotten them out of the fight! Hell, he should have told him not to go that way. How could a single man demand that much, be so greedy?

"Your luck I'm in no condition to fight with you.", Tony managed to get out. "I'm going to bed."

He curled himself under the blankets. The ARC reactor was illuminating the notepad he had taken with him. Tony clicked the biro several times (oh, how much Pepper hated it when he did that in meetings) and started writing.

Computers. Lots and lots of good computers. Missiles – a long list of Stark Missiles. Tools. Stuff like wires and metal and everything. That could – would prove useful. Lab equipment. Light – lots of light, he couldn't work in the dark. Medical equipment – he would need to decipher Roger's DNA in order to unlock Erskine's original formula. But he was no doctor! He would never be able to fulfill the russian's expectations, and then they would kill him!

Tony pushed the notepad out of his bed and curled into a ball, awkwardly trying to protect the ARC Reactor, dimming its ghostly blue glow. Over the two years that he now lived with the machine being a part of him, he had learned not only to cope with it, but also to depend on the glow even when not in the suit. When he had to use the bathroom at night, when he was lying under a car trying to get the motor right again... there were so many situations where he appreciated the blue light. And Pepper... he was fairly certain she liked it, too.

It was the thought of Pepper that finally made him relax and fall asleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Steve, on the other hand, did neither try nor want to sleep. While he didn't really believe in God, he believed that there had to be higher powers. And since he was stuck in the 21st century, being held captive by russians who would kill him, and a majorly pissed-off Tony Stark who blamed him for everything - considering that this was Steve's life (along with his friends and his love dead), he was sure he had severely upset these higher powers.

The nightmares would start as soon as he fell a sleep, he knew. They would become worse when he slept in the dark, and since he didn't have a nightlight...

It was six a.m. when his internal alarm clock yanked him out of another dream that wasn't the least enjoyable. This time it was crashing a plane again, and then Peggy got abducted by some Chitauri.

He got up and looked for his clothes, feeling sort of unprotected without his beloved leather jacket. He knew he had left his clothes on the chair next to his bed.

They weren't there though. They had been replaced by a pair of dark blue jeans and a button-up shirt with a light blue pattern. Then there was underwear, socks and shoes. Steve missed his stuff already.

A red light blinked in the upper left corner of the room, indicating a security camera. So they liked having Captain America undressed in front of a camera. In the unrealistic case Stark and he would make it out alive and these videos would become publich, Stark – and Clint and Natasha – would never let him live it down.

Steve grabbed the clothes and looked around. It was embarrassing enough that he was nearly naked in rather tight underwear (that was even tighter since he had just woken up) and all of that would be captured on film, but he was _not _going to change in front of the camera. No way! Also, he needed to shave. And comb his hair and brush his teeth and use the toilet as well.

The bedroom was small – he didn't remember that there had been anything like different rooms – and there were two doors.

He took the clothes and peeked through onw of the doors, hoping he would not have to face Stark while only in his underwear. But he was lucky: It was a bathroom. There was a shower, a toilet and a sink. But whoever had equipped the room had clearly not thought about a toothbrush, shampoo or other necessities.

Then Steve opened the small cabinet above the sink. Shampoo and a toothbrush and a razor and soap...

He let out a small sigh. At least his personal hygiene would not suffer and he could have his morning shower. That made his whole life seem a bit brighter. Of course it was nonsense, but he liked to shower and it was calming as well.

Quickly, he checked the room for the red lights of the security cameras. He found two and felt how the blush crept up into his face. Knowing Stark, he sensed that the billioniare would probably get hold of those videos. Steve had been introduced to YouTube and dreaded the website already.

Still, he had to shower and he would shower, cost what may.

When he had finished his morning ritual and felt clean and right and _Steve _again, he tried to get dressed. Tried being the key word since the jeans were _so damn tight_! He managed, but he was sure the fabric was cutting off blood circulation to a very important part of his body.

Next was breakfast. While showering, he had decided that everything was fully okay and that SHIELD had already nearly found them and that they would be rescued soon and that therefore he could act normally since he would be out of here in a few days. Happy thoughts were the key.

The biggest room – he called it the "living room" – was still empty except for the small rollable table with two tablets full of food on top. Steve took one of the tablets and retreated to the more-or-less safety of his room.

The food was clearly formerly frozen, warmed up, had now cooled and didn't really look that delicious anymore. It seemed to be some kind of bread filled with anything and everything. Then there was something akin to salad and a bottle of water.

Food in the army had been worse, and at least he had food.

When he was finished, he brought the tablet back. Apparently Stark had woken up and grabbed his breakfast as well.

Steve looked around. There was still nothing. The floor, the wall, even the ceiling seemed to consist out of the same white plastic. Only the neon lamps had a grey exterior.

Resigned, Steve turned around and walked back into his room. He took off the shoes and the jeans, not caring for the socks, and curled himself under the blankets again. He stared against the wall and waited.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Like Steve, Tony found out that his old clothes had been replaced by new ones. But he wasn't so shocked by the cameras. Instead, he flashed the red lights a quick smirk and strode off to the bathroom.

He got his beloved goatee – seriously, what would he be without it? - back into its original form, got his breakfast and went back to bed afterwards.

Somewhen during the day – he had lost track of the hours – Tony was awakened out of his day dreaming by a series of loud knocks on his door and Vitalij was coming in.

"Your equipment has arrived.", he said without a greeting. "I request you start working."

There goes the friendliness., Tony thought. But it was probably better that way. Before it reminded him too much of Hammer. Right, he had actually wanted to check on that guy/annoy the hell out of him. It was so absurd! Hadn't Hammer used a russian guy to bring Tony and Stark Industries down? Well, yes, he had tried and failed, but still! America and Russia had been (or still are, depending on how you see it) mortal enemies, and he, Iron Man, was like sort of a total american, and this was the second time someone from Russia worked against him. What an irony of fate.

"Yup, whatever.", he said loudly and entered the main room

Vitalij was still standing there, between huge crates, looking at Tony neutrally. Behind him three of those guards that made Rogers look fragile. Looking at them closely, Tony figured that they might very well be smaller than the Captain, but they were muscular enough to make it up.

The crates had already been opened, so he started unpacking them. The silence was icy. He knew that there was a reason he liked having JARVIS and his music around while working. Or just the knowledge that there was JARVIS.

But, well, the russians had brought everything he had demanded.

"So?", Vitalij asked.

"Yep, that was the stuff I needed."

"Good. Start working."

A small movement of the hand and the three guards followed Vitalij to the door. Shortly before exiting the man turned around again and looked Tony straight in the face.

"And, Mr Stark: We know when you are trying to deceive us. If you try anything, you will experience that we are not the least forgiving. Meaning: Try anything" Vitalij moved forward and stopped directly before Tony, staring down at him. "and I will be happy to personally hurt you so much, you won't try anything ever _again._ Did I make myself clear?"

Tony shuddered. Those eyes were made out of grey ice and didn't leave a doubt that Vitalij would make no empty threats. That man was insane.

He swallowed drily. "Yeah. Sure."

"Good." Vitalij turned around again and exited. Behind him Tony leaned back against one crate, grabbing it thightly. There were splinters rammed into his palms now, but he didn't feel the pain.

And suddenly he realized the whole difference to the Afghanistan-abduction: He didn't have a plan now. Tony Stark always has a plan B, even if he just goes to a coffee shop. There was no plan B here, though. He had two options: Doing what his abductors wanted and maybe dying with only a bit of pain, or trying something and dying as painful as possible.

This time, he couldn't just build a suit and get out.

This time, Tony Stark would go under. And right now he wanted to do that with as little struggle as possible.

**The stuff I told about the computers, is it possible? I have no idea about hacking/IT/computers in general. Everything I know is a) my own thoughts and b) the stuff Lisbeth Salander does in the Millenium trilogy (I don't own anything of that, either, Lisbeth Salander/The Millenium trilogy belongs to Stieg Larsson). (For those of you who don't know the books or the films, Lisbeth Salander is a hacker ;) But I can highly recommend the books... I haven't seen the movies yet, though.)**

**Also, I hope that everybody could follow me through Tony's thought of computer madness. For those who couldn't: Tony is very smart and has a plan involving computers ;)**

**By the way, I don't own YouTube...**

**Hope you had fun reading! **


	15. Priorities and Loyalties

**Well, hello again :) **

**This chapter is amazingly long (yay)... and it might just be a bit OOC. So please, if you spot something that's too weird for the characters, please point it out to me.**

**Oh, and I am currently editing the former chapters... not really big changes, but yeah, maybe you look at them?**

**Thanks for reading all this stuff :)**

**[My mood today is waaay too good. What's wrong with me?]**

_Dear Clint __Hey, Clint!_

_Clint. There is something I have to tell you_

_Clint__. I shouldn't be writing this. When you read this, don't do anything, PLEASE!_

She hesistated. That didn't sound like her.

_Well, you will. I mean, I know you..._

_I have no idea how to tell you. Call me or something. Promise me to behave!_

_I'm sorry._

_Whatever. Call me. Don't let SHIELD trace you. This is urgent. And it's secret._

_Love, Yours, _

_Natasha_

_On the other hand, don't call me. Clint, I have no idea what to do!_

_So call me._

_Or don't. You better don't. _

_Clint, I need you. NOW!_

_I actually don't._

Oh, God.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Nat, what the hell is wrong?!" His voice sounded tinny through the payphone he was using. "That note you left... Are you alright?"

After hiding the note on top of the water cooler – she knew Clint would find it there – she had returned to her quarters at SHIELD base and stared against the wall. She was still there, staring, thinking, holding back the tears. His voice relieved her a bit. But not enough. She wanted him, _needed _him. Actually, she wanted to cry. In his arms, no matter how cheesy and out-of-character and unprofessional that was.

"Nat?", he asked.

"I need to see you.", she finally said.

" 'kay. Where? When?"

"I don't know." She bit her lip.

"Our coffee shop?"

"Probably." In her language, that meant 'yes'.

"Nat, what's wrong with you?"

"I just... need to talk. When can you be there?"  
"Ten minutes."

"Give me twenty."

" 'kay. See you."

She didn't say goodbye.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was already there when she got there. He was always there before her and always got them coffee. He was wearing black combat trousers, combat boots and an equally black hoodie. She knew there'd be at least seven weapons hidden in his clothing.

The coffee shop was their favourite meeting place. They did not only make great coffee there, but it was like their very own place out of SHIELD.

"What happened?", he asked and handed her her coffee. She wrapped her cold fingers around the cup and looked at his shoulder.

"Can we go somewhere else?", she asked quietly. Without waiting for him to answer, she turned around.

It was their spot in Central Park where she stopped. She still had her coffee in the hands. It was cold by now. She had held back the tears on the way. He had stayed silent, walking one step behind her, not taking his eyes off her. She could feel that.

Now, he came to face her. He was worried, she could see that.

"Nat?", he inquired again.

She swallowed the tears back down.

"Clint..." Her voice was thick and not like hers at all.

He looked alarmed, dropped the coffee and grabbed her shoulders.

"Nat?!"

His fingers were warm, soft and way to inviting. Before she knew what was happening, she had thrown herself into his arms and was crying her eyes out. Her fingers clawed the soft material of his hoodie and his shoulder was starting to get all wet.

Clint closed his arms around her and pressed his face into her hair.

The more she cried, the more her whole body started shaking. He contiued to press her close and held her, stroking her shoulders, softly massaging her.

She wouldn't stop crying, though. If anything, she cried harder.

"Nat.", he finally said. "Nat, please, talk to me. Nat!"

She shook her head which was still pressed to his shoulder.

It took her ten more minutes to calm down. Her eyes were still red and her shoulders were shaking. He made her sit on a bench and eyed her.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "Clint, I can't tell you."

"Then I'm here to be a shoulder to cry on?"  
"I'm sorry.", she whispered.

"It's okay, I guess."

"No, I – Clint, Fury will _kill _me if I tell you! I've signed a form that says I can't tell a person."

He shrugged. "It's okay."

Natasha glared at him. "No, it isn't! It's not fair. You should be the person who knows this, not me!"

"So it has something to do with Stark and Steve?"

"Yeah... a bit."

"Remember when I wasn't allowed to tell you that I had been assigned with the Barcelona mission? Remember how you asked and asked until you could picture what it was about?"

She nodded.

"Okay", she said, still nodding. "Go ahead, ask me."

" 'kay. Is the secret about a person?"

"Yeah."

"Do I know him or her?"

Natasha nodded, staring at her hands who were playing with themselves.

"How secret is it?", he asked.  
"Only the security council and I know about it..."

"So, like, super secret?"

"Yes."

"Oh, crap...", Clint sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Nat, do you really think I should know this?"

"I... I think you have the right to, Clint..."

"Fury is going to kill me if I leak something... if I _know _something."

She nodded again.

"Do I know the person the secret is about because he or she is at SHIELD?"

"Yeah."

"How close am I with this person?"

She bit her lip and squirmed lightly in her seat.

"Nat?", he asked. When she didn't resond, he took her hands and looked directly into her eyes.

"You don't have to tell me, 'kay?"

Natasha nodded, escaping his gaze.

"Just one more question..."

"Shoot." She still didn't sound like herself.

"You aren't pregnant, are you?"

She lifted her head abruptly. "What the- ! No, I'm not! Why should I be? And who should be the father?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Was just some thought. So, it is so bad that you don't want to tell me or that you can't, because of the... I don't know, national security or something?"

"Clint... If I tell you, you will be super mad and you will do something stupid and then you will be in trouble, and... I can't tell you."

"Hey, it's okay." He pulled her close again and tucked her head under his chin. "So... uh, I know this person, he or she is in SHIELD... It's not you what the secret is about, right?"

She shook her head.

"Okay, so you're just involved... Uhm, Fury wanted to talk to you after the meeting, right? Was it then that he introduced you to the secret person – let's call him or her X. So, was it then?"

"Yes."

"Tell me what happened."

"He... he called me into his office, but he was in thoughts. And... then he said that since I have never led a mission before, he wanted to appoint me a counsellor. I wasn't happy, because I don't like having someone who always corrects you."

Clint smiled faintly.

"Then he told me not to say a single word about the counsellor to anybody, but especially not you. I think he meaned that I am not allowed to tell you. Then I signed that form... and then Fury took me down to the medical bay –"

"The medical bay?" Clint frowned.

"To meet the... counsellor."

"Name's X.", he added.

"To meet X."

"And then?"

"There was...", she pressed her lips together.

"So, X was there. What did you do?"

"I – I – Clint, I... I don't know, he sat there and was reading and... and then he – he stood up and he looked at me and he looked _all the same _and – and –" She started sobbing again.

She never sobbed, she never even really acccepted a hug, much less throwing herself into somebodys arms. Whatever person Fury had introduced her to, she must connect an either horrible or wonderful memory to this person. But if it was wonderful, why should she be crying her eyes out?

Then it dawned on him. Natasha had liked this person very much, and he or she had died, or at least so she had thought- But that would mean - - -

A person in SHIELD Natasha had liked, loved probably. He or she died. Then comes back to life. He. He comes back to life. _Phil._

Clint violently pushed Natasha away from him and against the back of the bench. She was still crying. He grabbed her shoulders tighly, too tight. A small sound of pain escaped her lips. Some pedestrians stopped and looked at them. He ignored them.

"Phil!", he growled through gritted teeth, shaking her slighty. "Was. It. _Phil_?!"

She nodded, shaking, sobbing.

Phil. It was Phil. Phil was alive. Alive!

As violently as he had pushed her back, he pulled her close again, pressing her against his body and holding onto her. He buried his fingernails into her back and let himself fall, crying his heart out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Somehow, they had made it back to his apartment where they just sat on the couch, still pressing close together. In Central Park, they had stopped crying after a while because there were just no tears left.

Without talking, they were both sure that Fury had known that Phil never died.

"I'm going to kill him.", Clint finally said, voice raw. "He knew it all the time. And it is two months, two and a half since... since he told us that..." He swallowed. "...that Phil died."

"He must have had reasons, Clint. Fury never does anything without a reason."

"Yeah.", he said, teeth gritted. "Fury must have had a reason for proclaiming Coulson dead. He must have reasons for making me feel like... like I killed him, like I killed the first person that accepted me, like I –" He stopped and stood up, wandering around. He had his fist rammed into his pockets.

"I wanna see him.", he said suddenly. "I won't believe it until I saw him."

"Clint..."

"Nat! Please! I _need _to see him, I can't believe you if I don't see him, I- "

"I understand.", she said softly. "I'll call him. We can meet somewhere, a restaurant, a bar, a coffee shop..."

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I'll call him, okay?"

"Yeah."

Natasha looked at her partner for some time warily until she finally nodded again and pulled out her mobile. It was a new Sony Xperia Z with the sole purpose of calling her... counsellor. Probably SHIELD had taken care that nobody could call this phone except for the counsellor. Had taken care that nobody could trace the phone.

There was only one number saved. It belonged to a person called Stan Lee. Whether this person existed or not, Natasha did not know. She only knew what she had to say in order to be connected to... Phil.

"Joan Lee, who is there?", the elderly woman greeted her.

"Hey, grandma, it's me, Cherry." That's what Fury had told her to say.

"Cherry! Wonderful that you call. How is college going?"

"Ugh, I totally hate this one class, cinematography. I'm afraid I'll have to bother grandpa again, because our teacher gave us another topic to write an essay about."

"Oh, you poor darling. One moment, I'll give you your grandfather."

Clint stared at Natasha. "What the hell are you talking?", he hissed.

She made a calming movement with her hand and waited for the click that would show her she was connected.

"Hello?", his voice came through the phone.

"It's me.", she said, desperately trying to sound normal.

"What's wrong?"  
"I need to meet you."

"No meetings allowed."

"I know." She was silent for a short time, then: "Phil- "

"No names!"

"I know, but... I need to meet you. It's urgent."

"See, I can't."

"Please."

"Okay. Where? When?"

Natasha thought about it, biting her lip.

"Cap's apartment.", she finally said. "In one hour, okay?"

"They will be monitoring it.", Clint said.

"Not a good idea; Nick will watch over it.", Phil said. Then: "Remember that café where we met before the Budapest mission?"

"Yeah."

"In one hour. And: come alone." He hung up.

"No.", Natasha said, shaking her head.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The café was in a smaller street, a pedestrian walkway. The only thing Natasha didn't like about it was that it looked directly onto the Stark Tower. True, she had learned to cope with Stark on her mission, even liked him a bit (because sometimes he was just like Clint), but after the mission she would have been glad to never hear a word about him anymore. But that wasn't the way SHIELD worked, and now that she lived in his tower... oh well, it was okay. Better than her quarters at the HQ anyways, and since she didn't own an apartment in the outside world...

But apart from having to look at Stark Tower, the café was wonderful, the standard waitress, a young woman named Beth (everytime Natasha saw her face, she was sure she knew it from somewhere, but from where?), was really nice, the coffee was just wonderful, and there were enough places for Clint to hide.

The archer had decided that he didn't want to be seen by Phil... not yet. So he just searched for a good seat for himself and watched.

Phil was five minutes late. He took his seat opposite of Natasha's and greeted her with a light nod.

Exactly that moment Natasha's phone (her real one, not one of the two SHIELD gave her) vibrated. It was a text from Clint:

_distracted swat team on phils heels long enough. ur free 2 talk now. dont tell him im here. plz._

"Clint says we're free of the team following you.", Natasha said in a neutral tone.

"I'm sorry I didn't warn you."

"Not your fault."

Their pre-ordered coffee arrived. Phil thanked the waitress and waited until she was gone.

"Agent Romanov-", he started, only to be cut off by her.

"Don't you 'Agent Romanov' me, Phil. You have no idea."

"No, I haven't."

"You could have tried to contact somebody."

"How? I was completely isolated."

When she didn't respond, he frowned. "Is it about Clint?"

"How much did Fury tell you?"

"That you've won the battle, that the Avengers are a thing now. Then he told me about the Captain and Stark being abducted and how he had planned the rescue mission so far."

Again she didn't respond. Coulson leaned forward, frowning. "It's Clint, isn't it? What's wrong with him?"

Carefully, Natasha sipped on her coffee.

"So", she finally said. "They didn't tell you that he woke up screaming, still does sometimes, because there are nightmares where he is Loki, stabbing you? They didn't tell you that he is more down than ever, that he is sure everybody died because of him? They didn't tell you that his already broken self-confidence is now non-existing? They didn't tell you that nearly directly after the battle of Manhatten, his shooting got so bad, you wouldn't be able to tell it's his? They didn't tell you that he still hardly sleeps? And... they didn't tell you that... Agent Barton... tried to – well, that he tried to kill himself because he thought he was guilty for your death?", she questioned, looking the older man straight into the eyes.

Coulson choked on his coffee. "What?!", he managed to get out after some seconds of choking. "_Is he alright_?!"

She leaned back, eyes even colder than before.

"I guess.", Natasha said.

" 'Tasha-"

"No." She leaned towards him. "He- "

"You're not allowed to tell him, I know, but what if- "

"Phil, he knows."

"You..."

"I know I'm not allowed. And I didn't tell him."

"He asked."

"Sort of, yes."

"Natasha... Is he alright?"

"I guess.", she repeated.

"I have to see him."

"No.", she stated. "He doesn't want to see you... yet."

_can i change what i said?_ Clint texted.

Natasha looked down on her phone, not letting Phil see the message.

_clint are you sure you can do that? _she answered.

_did i hear a little 'already' in there? its my decision isnt it?_

_you cant simply pop out of nowhere _she warned.

_i know... central park?_

_what is it with you and central park? _she asked.

" 'Tasha?", Phil asked.

"He may want to meet you.", she said cautiously.

"Please. I need to see him."

Natasha sighed and waved the waitress to get the bill.

"I know it's not your fault Fury didn't tell us. Promise me you won't tell him anything."

"You know I wouldn't do that, Natasha."

"Well", she got up and took her purse. "Let's certainly hope so."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Natasha knew Clint was following them. She also knew that Phil knew that, too.

"I don't know if he will face you.", she said.

"I hope he does.", the man responded.

"You know, it will take a whole lot of work on your side to regain Clint's trust. And even more work on Fury's side."

"Listen, Natasha, if I had known- "

"That's not the thing. The thing is that... you know how he is with relationships."

"Yes."

"So it's not going to be easy, Phil."

"I know that."

"And I hope you are willing to try anyways. Because I don't like people who hurt my partner."

"So I've lost your trust, too." It wasn't a question. "Natasha, you know I know Clint longer than you. And you know that I not only like him but also respect him, his personality, in every way. You and Clint are my two closest friends. I don't want to loose any of you. So I am of course willing to regain his trust."

Her phone vibrated.

_nat i cant. im sorry. im an idiot, right?_

"He can't meet you just yet.", she informed Phil.

"I feared that. It's alright. Can you tell him that I will still be there for him, whenever there is something where he needs me?"

"Sure.", she answered.

"I'm so sorry."

"So am I."

"This should never have happened."

"No."

"Is he here?", the man asked.

"Maybe." She didn't give away anything.

"Can I do anything?"

"No."

"See, Natasha, I'm really sorry, and –"

"I know you are. I'm sorry, too, but that just doesn't change a thing. You still have a non-SHIELD-ed phone?"

"Yes."

"Send him a text. Just one. Telling him whatever you want to tell him. Don't dare to bother him. Wait for him, okay?"

"Yes."

"Good."

She spun on her heel and walked away, leaving him standing. It started to rain faintly.

"Natasha!", he called after her.

"What?", she asked, stopping in her tracks and turning around.

"Do you still have a private phone?"

"Sure."

"The same?"

"Yes."

"Can I call you?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

"Anytime, really." She walked back to him, facing him.

"I'm glad you're alive.", Natasha whispered. "If there's anything I can do... call me."

Then, she hugged him shortly, turned on her heel and retreated again.

He smiled faintly. There was something he would like to ask her. But she couldn't fly him to Portland... and she didn't know 'his' cellist anyways.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Three days later, near the other coast of the United States, a woman returned to her apartment after a long day of work, even later than usual. It was already past eleven pm. She was exhausted and in a horrible mood. Some months prior, her life had taken its so far worst turn, and it had been bad ever since, but this day seemed to top them all concerning how bad it had been.

She looked through the small pile of mail. There were bills for gas and electricity, from the repair service of her car. Those were put on the 'unpersonal mail' pile. Then there were postcards of some of her friends who were currently spending their time in Europe. There was a letter from her sister and two from some more of her friends, as well as one of her parents. She put all of them on the 'personal mail' pile. Having sorted her mail like this, there was only one last letter left.

It was simply white. Her address was written with a black biro on the front. There was no addresser given.

The last time such a letter had come, it had been on the same paper and it had said that unfortunately her boyfriend, working for the government, had died in action. There wasn't going to be a funeral because the body had been utterly destroyed. The addressors expressed their symphaty. Signed 'a friend and superior' of her boyfriend. It had been handwritten.

She bit her lip. She didn't want to open this letter. Who knew what Then, she pulled herself together and ripped open the cheap paper. It contained a single page of normal white print-out paper, folded twice. Exactly like the first letter. Was handwritten, too.

_Phil Coulson and I have the same superior, and he's an unimaginable he'd gain some weir kind of profit if he'd tell people Phil's dead. I don't know why said superior didn't tell the truth afterwards._

_But, truth is, Phil never died. He's quite alright, means he can walk around again and left medical some time ago._

_He's not operational yet, though._

_But he's busy. Means you can't expect him to visit soon, but once this whole affair he and I are involved in is over, I'll kick him on a plane to you._

_Best regards, a friend of Phil_

_P.S.: If you want to, call me: 555-0176 _

_ I don't know how much I can tell you, though._

_ But Phil's alive, don't worry._

She sunk down on the couch. _Phil was alive! _

She needed some minutes to get over that. Then, her hand flew to her phone and dialed the number, hoping desperately it wouldn't be a joke.

It rang for what felt like an enternity, until the phone was picked up.

"What _the hell _do you want?!", a male voice asked rather impolite.

"I'm sorry... but you sent a letter telling me to call you... Maybe I have the wrong number."

She could hear a low "Honey! Hey, wake up!" and then there was someone else's voice saying "Don't you 'honey' me!". It was a female who also took the phone afterwards.

"You got the letter.", the female voice said.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"A colleague of Phil. And you're his girlfriend?"

"If you want to call me that."

"Listen, he's fine. He really is."

"Can I trust you?"

"Yes."

Both woman were silent for some time.

"I don't yet have his secret number.", the woman on the phone finally said.

"His secret number? What do you mean with that?"  
"Actually, he's not allowed to call anybody except me. So he will have to establish himself a secret phone with a secret number in order to call people without his superior noticing. Probably already has one, I don't know."

"And who are you?"

"I am a friend of Phil."

"What's your name?"

"I can't say it."

"Why does his superior want him to not talk to anybody except you?"  
"Do you know what Phil works at... or whom for?"  
"He works for the goverment."

"What branch?", the woman on the phone asked.

"I don't know. He said he wasn't allowed to talk about it."

"Well, he isn't. See, it's Top Secret."

"But he's alive."

"Yes."

"Can I trust you?"

"No. But call me if there's something you need to know. Good night."

The call ended and she stared into the darkness of her apartment.

Phil was alive.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"I will never understand what your priorities are or whom you are loyal to.", he asked.

"I'm loyal to myself... and the people who are at my side. So I'm not exactly loyal to SHIELD. Except when I need them... And my priorities? Right now I want to kick Fury's lying ass for not telling us."

"Why did you keep me from storming into his office and killing him?"  
"Because you forgot what he already did for us."

He sighed. "The worst thing about you is that you are nearly always right."

"Heh. Probably... Can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"This – _all _of this – has to remain our secret."

"... 'kay."

They were silent, until he asked: "Can I...?"

"... come to be cuddled?"

The shame in his voice was obvious. "Yeah..."

"Sure. Come here."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

"Love you.", he murmured.

She smiled into his hair.

**Ohhhh, I love BlackHawk :3 Did I screw up too badly with this chapter? :D**

**Fully edited story should be up by this evening/tomorrow. **

**I'm thinking about doing a short story (no longer than 3 chapters) about a SHIELD op. It's either the Budapest story or another one that would be completely imaginative. Tell me what you think, please!**


End file.
